


Table for Four

by greenstuff



Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 69,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenstuff/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Swarek has wanted Andy McNally since her second day on the job, but something has always been in the way. First she was his rookie, and now she's with another man. Just when he thinks he might have a shot, a violent crime brings up an event from his past that could jeopardize everything.</p><p>WINNER 2012 Rookie's Choice Award for Best Serve and Protect Moment <br/>NOMINATED 2012 Rookie's Choice Award for Best Interpretation of Sarah Swarek</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Alright, who is she?” Sarah asked the second the front door of her two-story home shut behind Sam.

“What?”

“The girl. Who is she?”

Sam abandoned his bag by the front door and collapsed on the brown leather sofa. “What girl?”

Sarah raised both eyebrows, “Come on You drove up to St. Catharines after shift on a two day weekend and you want me to believe there’s no girl.”

 “I’m happy to see you too, sis.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy. You know I love you to death, but other than Christmas and the kids’ birthdays you only come visit if you’re running away from your lady troubles.”

“She has a point, Sam.” Edward, Sarah’s husband, said, walking into the room with three bottles of beer in his hands. “And you know how Sarah is when she gets an idea in that pretty little head of hers.” He passed a beer to his wife, dodging her hand as she reached out to swat him.

“Thanks,” Sam raised the beer in a mime of a toast before taking a swallow. It had been a hell of a shift, and adding the two hour drive to St. Catharines on the end of it hadn’t helped the exhaustion. He probably should have stayed in Toronto, but the idea of running into Andy and Luke at the Penny turned his stomach almost as much as the idea of going home alone. Most of the time he liked his solitude, but on a day like today it was nice to have somewhere else to go.

“So?” Sarah sank onto the couch beside him and nudged him with her shoulder. “Who is she?”

Ignoring her, Sam turned to face his brother in law. “How’re the kids?”

“They’re good.” Ed grinned, “Samantha's ballet class had a recital last week and Mitch made first string on the soccer team this year.”

They chatted about Sarah and Ed's two children for the next ten minutes while Sarah alternated between watching Sam for any hint he was ready to divulge a name and glaring at her husband for allowing the conversation to be diverted. When there was a lull, she broke in with, “You’re training a new rookie aren’t you?”

Sam nodded, taking a sip of beer to cover his expression.  Sarah was like a blood hound, she could smell out a secret like no one he had ever met before. Sometimes he teased her that she should have been the cop. The teasing helped them forget that she hadn’t always been this way.

For more than a decade after she was attacked, Sarah was afraid of everything. When he’d joined the academy Sarah was twenty three and still waking in the night, throat raw from screaming. It wasn’t until she met Edward Henley that she began to trust the world again. It had been hard for Sam at first, to let the sister he had been caring for and trying to protect since he was nine years old be cared for and protected by a near stranger. But now, seventeen years later, he couldn’t imagine Sarah without Ed.

“How’s life as a training officer?”

“Not bad. Beats having to do my own paperwork.” He grinned. 

“Is she pretty?”

“Andy?” He asked before realizing his mistake.

“I _knew_ it!” Sarah crowed in triumph.

“You knew my new Rookie’s name was Andy?” Sam recovered quickly, but not quickly enough.

“Nice try, Sammy.” Sarah held out a hand expectantly in Ed's direction. “Pay up mister.”

Grumbling under his breath he extracted a twenty from his wallet and slapped it in her palm.

Sam focused his betrayed expression on Ed, he expected this of Sarah. “You bet on this?”

Ed shrugged. “If you can’t beat them…”

“Now,” Sarah said, using both hands to turn Sam’s head so he was facing her directly, “tell me _everything_.”

“I’m going to need something stronger than this,” Sam said, downing the last of his beer.

“Hun?” Sarah didn’t take her eyes off her brother’s face, “Go grab the whiskey and a couple glasses?”

Chuckling, Ed did his wife’s bidding.

“Seriously Sam,” Sarah began the second her husband was out of earshot, “your rookie? How did this happen?”

Sam sighed. It was no good pretending he didn’t have feelings for McNally, at least not in front of Sarah. “I don’t know.”

She patted him on the arm. “What have you done about it?”

“Nothing. She’s my rookie.”

 “Riiiight.” Sarah shot him a look filled with scepticism. “Which is why you can’t look at me right now, is it?”

“She’s seeing someone.”  He left out the night they‘d shared and the hand he’d had in getting her and Luke back on the same page. 

Ed returned with a forty of whiskey and a trio of shot glasses. Sarah took the loot from his hands and poured them each a shot. “Apparently Sam’s girl has a boyfriend already.” She told him, her tone indicating how little credence she gave Sam’s claim.

“Does she? Well that’s too bad.” Ed raised his glass, “To the imminent breakup of Andy and…? He trailed off.

“Luke Callaghan.” Sam filled in, “But we’re not toasting to that.”

“Like hell we’re not,” Sarah grinned as she clinked her glass against her husbands, “To the breakup of Andy and Luke, may it be both soon and painless.” The couple downed their whiskey in unison.

“And you wonder why I never visit.” Sam grumbled.

Five shots of whiskey later Sarah had managed to learn that Andy was second generation cop, freshly twenty eight, essentially motherless for the last fourteen years, and a hopeless trouble magnet who over thought everything. Ed retired to bed after their third toast, claiming an early morning, but really just wanting to get out of the way for Sarah’s real interrogation.

“Tell me about Luke Callaghan.”

“Homicide Detective. Good cop. Solid guy.” Sam shrugged. “Apart from the homicide detective part, he’s the kind of guy I always wanted you to meet when we were teenagers.”

Sarah leaned her head against her brother’s shoulder. Sam had been taking care of her since she was thirteen years old. She remembered the first, and only, time she brought a boy home before Ed. James Connelly had been a nice guy, sweet, a little silly, and very cute. Thirteen year old Sam had taken one look at him and told Sarah that James would break her heart. She’d gone out with the guy anyway. Three weeks later she caught James making out with Patty Marsh. She’d never told Sam, but somehow he’d figured it out because James showed up at school with a black eye two days later that he refused to talk about and had never come near Sarah again. “You’re a good guy too Sam. One of the best.”

Sam shook his head, “It doesn’t matter. She made her choice.”

Something in his tone caused Sarah to pullback so she could look him in the eye. “Did she make the choice or did you pull out of the race?”

“Does it matter?”

“Sam. Answer the question.”

“He’s a good guy”

“So you pushed her away?”

“Drop it, Sarah.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve been taking care of me for twenty years and I think it’s time you let me return the favour.”

“What?”

“Ever since I was attacked your entire life has revolved around my wellbeing. From that ridiculous joke book to deciding to become a cop to working the streets of Toronto where we grew up rather than moving to a district where you would have a better chance at becoming a detective. You’re always so busy looking out for others that you forget you have needs too, Sammy.”

“Don’t…” He sounded pained.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to make me out to be some knight in shining armour. I’m not.” Sam sighed, “I tried, okay? I nearly slept with her and she still went running back to Callaghan. I’m not being selfless. Just realistic.”

“Oh Sammy,” Sarah wrapped both arms around him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He sat perfectly still and let her hug him, only the fact that she was his sister kept him from pushing her away.

They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping their whiskey, lost in thought. It was Sarah who broke the silence. “Andy’s an idiot.”

Sam raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond.

“She chose some homicide detective who probably works eighty hours a week and only pops over for a goodnight kiss and a shag once a week over you. Clearly she’s an idiot and you’re better off without her.”

Sam swallowed the urge to defend Andy; instead he kissed Sarah on the forehead. “I love you sis” and rose to leave the room, “Goodnight.”

“Night, Sammy.”

The topic of Andy didn’t come up again the entire weekend, much to Sam’s relief. By Sunday night when he hugged them all goodbye and climbed back in his truck for the drive home, he felt rested and ready to get back to work.

Sarah waited only until Sam’s truck had begun to roll down the driveway before turning to Ed, “How do you feel about going to Toronto for dinner?”

Ed shook his head, chuckling. “I suppose the kids can stay with my parents for a night.”

“Perfect. After you clear it with them, call the Keg on Jarvis and make a reservation for Friday, table for four?”

“Four?”

Sarah smiled.

“You wouldn’t.” Ed watched with a bemused smile on his face as Sarah herded their kids back inside, humming to herself the entire way. 


	2. Chapter 2

Six hours of traffic patrol had numbed Andy into a state of exhaustion. Thirteen tickets for speeding, two for driving uninsured vehicles, and a handful of warnings passed the time, but still she felt like she'd been on shift for days rather than a few hours. Her eyes burned from staring at passing cars, her feet ached from six hours of standing and walking no further than twenty meters at a time.

Sam let her flag down cars and issue tickets, standing by in case she ran into trouble but otherwise letting her run the show. She was pretty sure it was so she would be responsible for all the paperwork when they got back to the barn, but she didn't complain. It was a deadly boring assignment and at least when she walked up to each driver windows there was a remote chance that she would encounter something more than another idiot who thought he could do twenty over the limit and get away with it with a flimsy excuse or a few fake tears. And it could be worse; she could be back with Dove and Traci, manning the radar gun.

She approached the driver's door of the green SUV at a slow walk, taking her time scanning the vehicle and its lone occupant before stopping by the driver's window. "License and registration, Ma'am."

The woman fumbled in her purse for her wallet and drew her license out with shaking fingers.

"Do you know how fast you were going?"

The woman muttered something Andy didn't quite catch as she leaned over to retrieve her registration from the glove box.

"This is a seventy zone and we clocked you at eighty-nine." When the woman didn't say a thing, Andy continued. "Where were you headed in such a hurry?"

"S'going home." The woman answered without looking up, even as she held her papers out for Andy to take.

Andy took a deep breath through her nose, catching the familiar scent of scotch. Being able to identify alcohols by scent was just one of many skills she'd learned from her alcoholic father. "Have you had anything to drink today?" She asked, taking the papers from the woman.

The woman shook her head, but her eyes remained downcast, "N-no."

"Alright, you sit tight, I'll be right back." Andy turned and walked back to the car.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, taking the papers from Andy's hands and skimming them quickly.

"I think she's been drinking."

"Alright, well we have the breathalyser in the car." He handed the driver's license and registration back to Andy and fished the white rectangular breathalyser out of his bag, "I assume you've used on of these before?"

"They showed us in the Academy."

Sam nodded. "It's simple. She breathes here," he pointed to the disposable straw-like attachment that stuck out one side of the device, "and if this number," he pointed to the LED display, "is greater than 80 we take her in."

Andy resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she took the breathalyser from her partner's hands. There was no one at 15 she would rather be partnered with, but Sam drove her crazy sometimes. She half hoped the woman would blow over the limit so they would have to head back to the barn. If any had told her this morning she would be looking forward to hours of paper work by the end of her shift she would have told them they were crazy.

She bent down a little so she could look the driver in the eye, "Mrs. Connor, we would like to give you a breathalyser test." She held up the breathalyser, "Please blow into this. Take a deep breath and then blow out quickly, as hard as you can."

"I told you offisser, I haffnt been drinking attall." The woman's speech was slurred.

Andy took a deep breath to quell a rush of annoyance. It had already been a hellish day, the last thing she needed right now was a drunk refusing to take a breathalyser. "Ma'am, I can't force you to take this test, but if you refuse I will have to take you into custody. Please blow into this, right here," she indicated with one hand where the woman was to blow, "and as long as you haven't been drinking we can let you get on home."

Mrs. Connor sat for several seconds staring sullenly at the steering wheel before she finally seemed to decide it was better to just cooperate. When the test showed a level of 83, Andy was not surprised. "Step out of the car please, Ma'am." Andy said, stepping back to give the door room to swing open.

Sam, who had followed Andy as far as the back bumper of the bar when she'd come back with the breathalyser, stepped forward to cuff Mrs. Connor when she stepped out of the car. 

Andy quickly grabbed the woman's purse, rolled up the windows and locked the doors before following him to the squad car. She radioed Dove that they were headed back to the barn and climbed into the passenger's seat.  

Mrs. Connor complained all the way back to the station and through the booking progress about how unfair it was that she'd been singled out for a breathalyser test on a Tuesday afternoon when she hadn't even been drinking. For the most part Andy ignored her, but she was extremely glad when they had booked her and it was time to do paperwork.

"Good work out there today, McNally."

"Thanks." She smiled half heartedly. It didn't feel like she'd done anything worthy of commendation that day, in fact she was fairly certain that the 13 people she's given citations too were probably cursing her existence.

“Sarah?” Sam stopped dead in his tracks.

 “What are you doing here?” Sarah hadn’t been to Toronto more than twice since she’d moved to St. Catharines seven years earlier. She had definitely never been to the 15 division station.

  “Sammy!” Sarah gave him a quick hug. “Please tell me you’re off shift. We have six-thirty reservations and I’m starving.”

“We’ve got a few things to clear up but I can probably be done by six.” He looked around the room for a second, “Where’s Ed?”

“In the car. He thought we should call you first.” Sarah turned to Andy and held out a hand, “Hi, I’m Sarah.”

Sam started, he’d forgotten Andy’s presence in his surprise at seeing Sarah. Grimacing a little he completed the necessary introductions. “Sarah, this is my rookie, Andy McNally. Andy, my big sister Sarah.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Andy smiled, “Sam’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good I hope?” Sarah shot a teasing look at her brother.

“Right.” Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I’ve got some paperwork to do before I can get out of here so…”

“I can do it.” Andy broke in, “Go, take your sister out for dinner.”

 Sarah shot Sam a pointed look. He shifted his weight. “I’ve got time.”

Sarah smiled widely showing a set of slightly crooked white teeth, “Then when you’re done you and Andy can meet us at the Keg on Jarvis. The reservation is under Henley,”

Sam stared at his sister, mouth open in a protest that wouldn’t form itself into words.

“Oh no, I couldn’t...” Andy protested.

“I insist.” Sarah said turning the full force of her smile on her, “Sam’s never let me meet a rookie of his before. I don’t want to waste the opportunity.”

Sam muttered something that sounded like ‘I didn’t let you meet this one’ and shifted his weight uncomfortably.

Andy smiled, “Well when you put it like that.”

“Excellent.” Sarah hugged Sam and disappeared down the hall.

“So that’s Sarah?”

 "Yeah.”

"Not quite how I pictured her."

Sam smirked. Sarah, with her blonde hair, blue eyes and slight build looked like a pale double of her dark haired mother, and nothing like her swarthy brother. Most people assumed Sam was adopted. "Our father was blonde." He explained briefly.

"I thought she'd be... quieter." Andy wished she'd kept the thought to herself the minute she said it.

"Serious like her brother you mean." Sam's smile told her he wasn't offended.

"Something like that," she smiled back.

At six Andy signed off the last piece of paperwork and headed for the locker room. She surveyed the jeans and loose cable knit sweater she'd thrown on in the half-dark that morning. Not fancy but she didn't have any other options. She twisted her hair up, took a quick shower and dressed. She stole a lipstick and mascara out of Traci's locker and quickly touched up her face. By 6:20 when Sam, damp haired and wearing a grey t-shirt, poked his head around the dressing room door she was presentable.

 "Ready?" Sam asked.

"Ready." She slung her bag over one shoulder and followed him to the truck. She thanked her lucky stars Luke had been called to testify in Ottawa and would be gone for the next couple days. They were back together, but the ground was shaky, especially around the topic of Sam. She didn't even want to think what he would say if she told him she was going out on a bizarre double date with her TO and his sister.

"You eat steak, right?" Sam asked as he slid behind the wheel.   
  
"You bet your ass." She answered with a sassy grin.   
  



	3. Chapter 3

The Mansion on Jarvis was one of the few things other than Sam that Sarah still loved about Toronto. When they were kids she had constantly begged her parents to take them to dinner there. She still vividly remembered the one time they had actually dined there. It wasn't the food that stuck with her, though it was excellent. What drew her back here time and time again was the building.

The three story mansion was built in 1867 by Arthur McMaster and in the 150 years since then had served as a school, an art gallery, and one other restaurant before becoming The Keg in 1976, the year Sarah turned five.  Rumors it was haunted, along with several reported sightings, strengthened the romantic intrigue around the beautiful building in her young mind. As an adult she loved the place for the memories of a time before she knew fear, a time when fairy tales and magic were real.

Sam and Andy beat Sarah and Ed to the restaurant. Sam suspected conniving on Sarah's part and breathed a silent sigh of relief when the hostess found a reservation for four and escorted them to a large booth at the back of the restaurant. He paused for an awkward moment before sliding in across from Andy.

The hostess lay out four menus and disappeared back to her post near the door.

They perused their menus in comfortable silence, something they were still relearning since the prison transport one week earlier, until a waiter came with a basket of still warm bread and offered to take their drink orders. They both stuck with water, though Sam could have used a triple shot of whiskey, one ounce for every minute Sarah was late - deliberately late he was sure.

The waiter returned with two glasses of ice water just as the hostess ushered a profusely-too profusely Sam thought, shooting his sister a disapproving look as she slid in beside Andy- apologetic Sarah and an amused Ed to join them.

"I am so sorry," Sarah said, "you would think sixteen years in Toronto would be hard to forget, but I swear they've moved the streets since then."

"You used to live around here?" Andy asked, casting a quick glance at Sam.

"Sam never told you?" Sarah shot her bother a questioning look. "We grew up over on McGill. Used to walk past this place every day on the way to Moss park during ball season."

Andy noticed Sam's posture stiffen. She wondered if Moss Park was where Sarah was attacked. It was hard to picture the vibrant, smiling woman beside her as the scared teen who couldn't even take a 50 minute bus ride to the beach without panicking.

"What kind of work do you do?" Andy asked, steering the subject away from any hint of Sarah's tragic past.

"I don't," Sarah answered, "I'm a stay at home mom. Both our kids are home schooled."

Andy wondered if the kids were homeschooled for educational advantages or because their mother was too afraid to let them go to a public school where they may be hurt like she was. "Two kids?"

"One of each. Samantha is six and Mitch is going to be ten in August."

"Named after her uncle?" Andy shot a look at Sam who was pretending to be very interested in his menu.

"And so very proud of it." Sarah smiled fondly and reached across the table and rested her hand on top on his, "I don't know if you've realized this or not, Andy, but our Sammy is a pretty great guy."

There was a moment of awkward silence as if no one quite knew what to say to that. It was Sarah who broke the silence, "but enough about me. What about you? Pretty girl like you must have a man."

Andy, who had taken a swig of water to cover the awkward silence nearly choked on it. She coughed twice before managing to answer, "Yes, I'm seeing someone."

She was saved from having to elaborate by the arrival of their waiter. They each placed their order and Andy sank back against the booth with a small sigh of relief. She had less than no desire to talk about how great her relationship with Luke was in front of Sam. Not that he seemed to care one way or another. She'd thought for a while there was something between them, but it was clear to her since the disastrous prison transport where they'd decided to become friends that he had no feelings beyond that. She tried not to dwell on the small pang of disappointment this realization brought.

Sarah waited only until the waiter had turned away from their table before turning sideways in her seat to look Andy full on, "And? Who is he?"

"Hun.." Ed started to protest but she stilled him with a look.

"I'm sorry, Andy. It's just been so long since I was single, I can't help myself."

Sam wished he'd asked for something stronger than water. He knew his sister, and there was no way she was going to drop this topic. The only thing that kept him from kicking her under the table was the knowledge that, annoying and overbearing as she could sometimes be, she was acting with his best interest at heart. That and a masochistic curiosity about Andy and Luke's relationship.

Andy's smile was strained when she answered. "His name is Luke Callaghan, he's a detective."

"A detective?" Sarah prompted.  

"Police officer who wears a suit to work." Sam said, flashing her a cheeky grin.

"Oh is that why you didn't apply for that position two years ago? So you wouldn't have to wear a suit?" Sarah countered, shooting him a look that said to sit back and stop interfering.

 _Hypocrite_. Sam thought, matching her expression.

"You were up for promotion?" Andy asked, her dark eyes fastened on his face.

"A spot opened up in Homicide two years ago, I chose not to apply, for which my dear sister will never forgive me."

"Only because I adore you and would like to see you spend a little less time getting shot at."  

Sam sighed. This was not a new discussion, and it never got any easier. The first, and only, time he'd told her about his day at work was three weeks into his rookie year. They'd responded to a call for shots fired and it ended in a fatal - for the perp- shootout. Sam hadn't been hit, he hadn't even been one of the cops shooting it out, but Sarah had nightmares about it for weeks. She even tried to get him to quit. It was Ed who had finally managed to soothe her. From that day onwards, Sam told her as little about his job as possible. And yet still, almost every time he visited, she found a way to introduce the idea of a desk job to him at least once.

"Let's just be glad he now has a partner to watch his back," Ed said, smiling fondly at his wife.

Sarah wrapped one arm around Andy in an awkward half-hug. "Yes, we could not be happier that Sam has you for a partner, Andy. You'll watch out for him? He's the only bother I have and I'm rather fond of him."

Andy nodded, "Of course."

The conversation turned to Ed's job at the local high school and their kiDs latest achievements. For the most part Andy was content to sit back and watch the family interact. It was obvious they were close and she wondered a little at the fact that she'd been Sam's rookie for nearly five months before she even learned he had a family.

Their waiter brought more bread and each of their entrées and conversation continued to flow comfortably throughout the meal. Sarah asked once about Andy's family but didn't ask anything more after Andy told her it was just her at Tommy, causing Andy to wonder just how much Sam had already told her. By the time they had paid the cheque and were ready to leave Andy felt like she was one of the clan.

Which was why she didn't really think anything of it when Sarah came with her to the ladies room on their way out. At least not until they were alone in the room and Sarah leaned against the sink instead of entering a stall.  

"Look, Andy," she said twisting her hands distractedly as she spoke, "I know this is none of my business but..." she trailed off.

Andy shoved both hands in her back pockets and waited. When Sarah didn't speak she prompted her, "What do you want to know?"

"Is there something going on between you and Sam?"

Andy froze.  "W-what.. no. We're friends, that's it."

Sarah studied Andy's face for several seconds, "Sam doesn't have female friends. Never has." She looked down at her hands for a moment. "I know you have a boyfriend and I'm sure there are rules against it, there always are..." She sighed. "Just, don't hurt him, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He's always been guarded. I think that is probably my fault; but he's different. Since he met you he's different. In a good way. He's opened up." She crossed her arms across her chest protectively, "I know you have a boyfriend, and for all I know he's the one for you. And maybe you and Sam are just friends and there's nothing there... but I've never seen my brother like this. And you're beautiful and sweet and..." She shrugged, "Just don't hurt him."

"Okay."

"I'll let you pee now," Sarah said, giving Andy a quick hug before ducking out of the ladies room.

Andy stood rooted to the floor as the tiny blonde disappeared and the door clicked shut behind her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Thanks for coming down." Sam hugged his sister tightly.

"You're worth it." She grinned up at him, "She likes you, you know?"

"Well yeah, we're friends." Sam glanced quickly around the parking lot, making sure Andy hadn't emerged from the restaurant yet.

Sarah swatted him on the arm. "Don't be stupid on purpose," she scolded him gently.  "She _likes_ you, now don't mess it up by trying to be the good guy. In case I haven't told you this enough lately, you already _are_ the good guy and you deserve to be happy more than anyone I know."

 Sam ran a hand through his hair, at a loss for words.

"You don't believe me."

"I--"

"It's okay." She smiled. "It's more fun to say 'I told you so' when you doubt me."

That elicited a chuckle. "Drive safe."

"There's the bossy brother I know and love," Sarah pulled him into another quick hug before climbing into the car next to her husband.

Sam stepped back and waved farewell as they pulled from the parking lot.

"You sister is amazing," Andy said, coming to stand beside him.

"Yeah, she is." Sam fished his keys out of his pocket, "Ready to go?"

She nodded.  

"Thanks for coming along tonight," he said, turning the key in the ignition bringing the truck to life. "It meant a lot to her." _and to me_ , he shook off that line of thinking. If he thought about how well she had fit in with his family, he would have to think about how much fun it would be to introduce her to his niece and nephew, and that way lay insane thoughts about waking up beside her in the guest bedroom, in his bedroom. No, he was definitely not going down that road. "Do you need to grab anything at the station?"

"No, just take me home." She blushed at the innuendo - something that seemed to happen all too often in his company.

Sam threw the truck in gear.

The drive from the restaurant to Andy's apartment didn't take long. The passed the drive in the comfortable silence of two people who know each other well enough they don't need to talk.  

There was a familiar car parked in front of Andy's building. Sam pulled in behind it and, when Andy made no move to get out, stilled the engine. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She didn't sound convinced.

He gave her and incredulous look. She really was an appalling liar. Something she would have to cure if she wanted to succeed as a cop.

"Luke is home early. It's fine." She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes.

Sam stifled an uncharacteristic urge to pry. He knew Callaghan was testifying in Ottawa, but assumed (despite the occasional wishful thought to the contrary) that she was counting the hours. Apparently not. The only question was why. Unfortunately it was not a question Sam was allowed to ask.

Andy flashed him the empty smile again. "Thanks for dinner." She opened the door and hopped out onto the sidewalk.

Sam waited until she opened the glass doors to her building before pulling away, a nagging feeling that he should have asked the forbidden "why?"in his chest.

Andy watched Sam's truck disappear down the street before turning and ascending the stairs to her second floor suite, hesitating with one hand on the door. Things had been, for lack of a better word, awkward between her and Luke lately. Ever since the shooting when he'd once again chosen his job over her...ever since she'd almost slept with Sam... nothing had been right. Taking a deep breath she  opened the apartment door.

"You're home late." Luke's voice hit her before she'd even had a chance to shut the door or hand up her coat.

 _You're home early._ Andy thought, gritting her teeth as she shut the door quietly behind her.  Andy kicked off her shoes and slid her coat off her shoulders before turning to face Luke where he sat on her couch, "How was Ottawa?"

Luke fixed his blue eyes on her face and smiled, "I missed you."

Andy barely managed not to roll her eyes. He'd been gone less than forty-eight hours, they spent more time than that apart every time he took a new case. "I've got an early day tomorrow."

"Yeah," Luke stood and closed the distance between them, "I just wanted to see you."

Andy forced a smile she didn't feel and tilted her face up for a goodnight kiss. His lips against hers were so familiar, so safe, Andy's hand rose to cup the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. When they finally broke apart and Luke smiled down at her Andy smiled back. "Goodnight." She watched him let himself out of the apartment with something like regret, but forty minutes later, as she sank into dreams, it was not Luke Callahan's eyes, or lips, or hands that filled them, setting her nerves to tingling.

* * *

Sarah snuggled as close to her husband as her seatbelt would allow as he navigated the Toronto streets, pointing the car homeward.  "I like her. She's just what he needs."

Ed smiled and shook his head. "He's a fully grown man, Sarah."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"She seems like a nice girl, but Sam isn't twenty anymore. You gotta let him figure this one out on his own." By her sigh, he knew Sarah agreed with him, not that she would admit it. He loved his wife, and part of what he loved was the fiercely protective love she had for Sam.

When he had met Sarah seventeen years earlier, she was afraid of nearly everything. But even then, there was one thing that always overrode her desire to hide in the shadows, and that was an even fiercer need to see Sam happy. It was the first thing that had caught Ed's attention. He would never forget that night.

It was his first day in the education program at U of T and some of the guys had invited him to the pub after class. Ed had moved to the city only three weeks earlier and he knew no one, so he took them up on the invitation.

At that time Sam Swarek was an undergrad and a deft hand at darts and gambling.  Unfortunately for Sam, he hadn't yet learned when to quit the latter. That night, Karl, one of Ed's new friends took objection to Sam beating them out of their beer money in six quick rounds and jumped Sam in the parking lot as they were all leaving the pub. He got off only two punches before Ed pulled him off, but Ed later learned that Sam's nose was still bleeding when he arrived at the apartment he shared with his sister.

Ed forgot about the fight until the next afternoon when his last class let out for the day. He exited the building with three of the guys he'd drank with the night before only to be met by the sight of a petite blonde woman slapping a stunned Karl across the face. From twenty meters away, Ed could see she was trembling from head to toe as she squared off against the five foot ten man, but despite the obvious fear, she held her ground long enough to make it very clear to everyone within shouting distance that if they ever touched her brother again they would seriously regret being born. Somehow, Karl seemed to believe she was capable of doing just that because he backed away as if she were threatening him with a machete, rather than a pair of tiny fists that probably wouldn't even reach his face.

It was over a year later, after some clever manoeuvring on Ed's part, that he was finally able to ask Sarah on a date. They dated for five years before she eventually agreed to be his wife. It was not easy, with Sarah constantly trying to push him away, and with Sam ever ready to bring on the hurt if Ed so much as looked at her wrong, but she was worth it. He'd known she would be the first time he saw her.

 His wife's head grew heavy against his shoulder and before long she was snoring gently. Ed kissed the top of her head affectionately. "I love you Sarah."

An hour later he pulled into the driveway of their home, unbuckled both their seat belts and carried his wife up to their room. She didn't wake once and he marvelled for the thousandth time at how far she'd come in the twenty years he'd known her. No longer was she a scared shell, afraid to let anyone in. And Ed knew he owed Sam a debt he could never repay for helping Sarah recover the way he had. Maybe Sarah's plan wasn't such a bad idea after all. 


	5. Chapter 5

On her first day as a fully fledged officer, Andy rose with the sun. The longest, toughest six months of her life were over. She had to pinch herself to know she wasn’t dreaming.

She barely believed she’d made it. There had been more than one time she’d wanted to give up. But somehow, every single time the job became too much to handle and she thought quitting was her only option, Sam had appeared at her side with reassuring words or a truly terrible joke to cut the tension, and she’d found the will to press on again. Against the odds they’d become friends.

Still, Andy had never been able to shake Sarah’s words three weeks ago in the restroom of the Keg, _Sam doesn't have female friends. Never has_ , and her promise not to hurt him.

She hadn’t seen Sarah again after that dinner. Sam had explained that his sister rarely came into Toronto if she could avoid it. But Andy learned quickly the signs that Sam had been out to St. Catharines to visit Sarah, Ed and the kids. He always seemed more centered, and quicker to smile on the first day back after his visits. It made her wonder why he didn’t apply for a transfer so he could be closer to them. Sam was a great cop, she was certain any division would be happy to have him and there were three at least that would place him closer to his family. She’d never asked him about it though; selfishly she didn’t want him to go. 

It was hard enough to imagine anyone but Sam sitting next to her in the cruiser. Of course she'd worked with other cops, her fellow rookies, the other TOs of 15, but she'd always known it was temporary. She was Sam's rookie, he was her TO. No matter what came her way he was the one she was expected to share it with, and for a while she'd shared more with him than with either Traci or Luke - a habit she would suddenly be expected to break out of.

Traci had too much on her plate looking after Leo and juggling Dex and Jerry, the last thing she needed were Andy's problems dumped in her lap. Things with Luke were just the opposite. He seemed so together. His life was perfect, like newly fallen snow, and she couldn't stomach the thought of spreading her family mess all over it.  Things with Luke were good, as long as she kept a smile on her face and spent a chunk of each paycheque on sexy undergarments to distract him if he even slipped into detective mode. The realist in her knew their relationship wouldn't last long the way they were going, but it was simple and fun and she threw herself into it, promising her rational side that they would talk it all out one day. When the time was right.

 It was a beautiful day. Clear and crisp. The leaves had begun to fall from the trees and there were patches of frost glinting in the shady patches where the sun's warmth couldn't quite reach. It was a great day to be alive. Andy walked to the station, as she often did when the weather permitted, enjoying the burn of the cold air against her cheeks and nose. Soon it would be too cold to brave the outdoors without bundling to the nose, and she would need to drive, but for today the city was hers and she was going to drink it in.

It wasn't far from her apartment to fifteen division and she arrived in plenty of time to change into her uniform before parade. Her first parade since being cut loose. She couldn't stop the grin, but she stifled it quickly.

* * *

Sam woke up with an aching head and a mouth full of stale cotton. It took him three tries to quell the shrill shrieking of his alarm clock.  Vague memories of shot after shot chased down with beer and laughter were all he retained from the night before. Oliver Shaw knew how to drink and this  was not the first time celebratory drinks had made the next day hell, but this hangover was particularly vicious.

At least today there would be no eager rookies to pile pain on top of pain.

It was hard to believe that six months earlier he'd been living in cheap, pay by the week, rat infested slum, working his ass off to find one shred of evidence to put that scumbag Anton Hill in jail. Harder still to believe that it had been months since he'd been angry about his failure. These days he was pretty sure he could joke about it without so much as the urge to break something.

A potential opening in guns and gangs helped. It was the division he'd always wanted to be in. He was born for UC work. It took a certain type of man, unattached, focused, comfortable with silence and solitude. Sure he hadn't pulled of his last undercover job for the drug squad, but he and the rest of the division had already realized that wasn't for lack of skill. Getting on guns and gangs would mean more opportunities to go UC, bigger busts and with them greater risks.

He hadn't told Sarah yet. Though he was pretty sure she knew he was gearing up for another disappearing act. He'd been to visit her, Ed and the kids every set off since their dinner in Toronto three weeks earlier. Since his visits were usually once every couple months for holidays and special occasions she'd become immediately suspicious and he'd spent an entire night convincing her that he wasn't putting in to transfer to the RCMP so he could move across the country to lawless Calgary. He'd held off teasing her about the wild-west view she had of Calgary only because he hadn't been there either and for all he knew she was right. One day he hoped to travel the country, large as it was, but travelling alone at his age was not an appealing prospect, so like many things he put it off for another lifetime.  

A pair of aspirin, a mug of coffee and some dry toast and Sam felt he could safely drive his truck without emptying his stomach all of the leather seats, though the bright light of the sun burned his bloodshot eyes and set his head to pounding. It was going to be a hellishly long day.

Fifteen division was several decibels louder than usual. The newly minted cops were like excited puppies, bouncing from place to place as if they thought the discipline and solemnity their TOs had spent six months drilling into their heads were just a part of probation and not actual requirements for the job. Of course, judging by the tilt of Noel's eyebrow when Sam shared this thought, that was probably the hangover talking.

"Good night, Sammy?" Oliver asked handing Sam a coffee.

"Nnuh," Sam grunted. The coffee burned its way down his throat, but he downed the entire cup in a few quick swallows despite the pain. "Remind me never to drink with you again."

"You say that every time," Oliver said, slapping Sam on the back hard enough to set the room spinning. "And yet here we are."  When Sam responded with nothing more than a glare, Oliver continued. "Rookie free." He shot Sam a significant look. "Free to do whatever we like."

Sam briefly wondered if he was still drunk, or sleeping. There was no other sane explanation for what he thought had just come out of Shaw's mouth. Then again, it wasn't against the rules for two officers... He shook his head, regretting it instantly. Today was definitely not the day to think about that. 

_“Did she make the choice or did you pull out of the race?”_


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright give it to me." Sarah said, crossing her arms and giving her husband her best no nonsense stare down.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes, not buying his 'who me?' tone. "The mental list you're compiling of ways this is going to go terribly wrong. Let's hear it."

"Alphabetically or in descending order of seriousness?" Ed's voice was light, but he wasn't entirely joking. Sarah's plans had a way of blowing up in her face. Like the time she'd tried to get Sam to transfer from the Toronto Police to the Niagara Regional Police Service a decade ago. That particular brilliant idea had ended with a broken hand (Sam's) and a broken nose (Ed's). 

"Alphabetical."

Ed rolled his eyes. Trust Sarah to pick the difficult option. "Andy has a boyfriend, who you didn't invite. Birthday parties are not Sam's thing," he ticked each item off on his fingers as he continued through the rest of the list, ending with, "Contrary to what you believe, Sam is fully capable of taking care of his own love life. "

Sarah considered her husband's concerns, Ed had always been a voice of reason, and he had a few excellent points. It was true that Sam was a grown man. no matter how much she pretended he was still her baby brother, he would be thirty-seven in three weeks. It was possible he wouldn't thank her for meddling in his love life. But it was a risk she was willing to take. Andy McNally was a special girl. Sweet, pretty, and despite the almost nine year age difference, a good match for Sam. If she saw a chance to get Sam and Andy in a room alone together, even for ten or twenty minutes she was damn well going to take it. Sam could be mad at her after he got the girl.

"You still want to do this, don't you?" Ed asked when Sarah didn't speak for several minutes.

She nodded. "I think it's worth the risk."

Ed pulled her against his chest in a quick, tight hug. "Alright. What can I do to help?"

o o o

Andy was ready to collapse from exhaustion when she arrived home from her first shift as a fully fledged member of fifteen. Apparently no one had told the rest of fifteen that the rookies were no longer rookies. The senior officers had not only continued to call them rookies, but they had been stuck with the menial work no one else in the division wanted to do. In many ways it was worse than when they were on probation because this time they didn't have a training officer to share the load.

She'd spent most of the day paired with Chris running a speed trap. They'd given a few dozen speeding tickets and then returned to the station for three hours of paper work. It didn't help that Dove and Gail had been whisked away by Boyd at the very beginning of parade and not seen for the rest of shift. The idea that they might be on special assignment for the drug squad had been the only thing Chris had been able to talk about all day.

For her part Andy was becoming accustomed to Gail receiving prime assignments. She was also fairly sure it hadn't helped her case or Chris' that they'd been whistle blowers on a fellow cop just a couple months earlier. Not that they had done anything wrong, but no one liked a whistle blower very much and until the new officers proved their own individual merits, reputation was all the detectives had to go on when they assigned cases. They were still very new. There was plenty of time to make a name for themselves at the station. That is, if they would ever get a decent assignment.

She pulled a stack of mail from her mailbox on her way up to her apartment, not bothering to look at the contents. Usually the most she could expect were some fliers for local restaurants and a cell phone bill. No one wrote letters any more. Everything was phone or email, hurried and impersonal, convenient.  

Luke was in the apartment when she opened the door, yelling at some sports team on the TV. She tossed the mail on her kitchen counter and poured a glass of water before joining him on the couch.  

There was a hockey game in progress on her screen, the Leafs were down 3-1 at seven minutes into the third.  Luke didn't take his eyes off the screen, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

"How was your first day?" He asked.

"Long." She curled her feet up beside her and let her head rest against the warm solid wall of his chest.

"Still treating you like a rookie?" he guessed.

She nodded.

"Don't worry. They'll get over it."

"Promise?" She asked.

"Just as soon as you show them you aren't going anywhere." He pressed a kiss on top of her head before turning his attention back to the hockey game.

Andy let her eyes fall closed as the rhythmic thumping of his heart lulled her to sleep.    

Half an hour later when Andy woke up, groggy and disoriented with a killer crick in her neck from the awkward angle she'd been laying at on the couch, Luke was gone. She stretched slowly, allowing her body to adjust to sitting upright before looking around the apartment, brow furrowed in confusion. These days Luke usually spent several nights a week at her place. He was in the middle of moving to a new home on the ravine and had said more than once that her place was a haven from the insanity of moving. It definitely wasn't like him to leave without saying goodbye. A quick scan of her apartment did not turn up a note and her phone showed no missed calls or messages.

Deciding he must have been called in to work, Andy turned off the TV and went to work making dinner for one.  While she waited for a pot of water to boil, she sorted through the stack of mail she'd retrieved earlier. Three fliers, a bank statement and a thick cream envelope with just her name handwritten on the front. Intrigued, Andy turned the envelope over, it was already opened.  

She stared at the slightly torn flap of the envelope for several moments. It had obviously been sealed at some point, and she didn't imagine whoever delivered it would have torn the envelope open before putting it in her box. That left only one person. A surge of anger rose in her chest. Luke had been acting suspicious for weeks. Ever since their reconciliation really he'd been a little too interested in where she spent her time and with who. But reading her mail, that was going too far.

There was a card inside the envelope. Andy pulled it out slowly. the card itself was quite plain, the words _You Are Invited_ etched on the front in gold. The message inside the card was handwritten.

_Andy,_

_I enjoyed meeting you very much. I am hosting a dinner for Sam's Birthday on the 14th. It would mean a lot to me if you would join us. I am sure Sam would be thrilled to see you._

_Hope to see you then!_

_Sarah_

The rest of the card held the details. Sarah's address in St. Catharines, driving directions and a phone number. Andy stared at the card for several moments before placing it back on the counter and reaching for the phone.  

o o o

Sam headed for St. Catharines as soon as he was off shift Tuesday night. He had two days off and his nephew's birthday was five days away. There was a card in his glove box which he would attach to whichever present Sarah had bought with Sam's forty dollars. Ever since Sam had bought a six year old Mitch a set of cops and robbers action figures, Sarah had designated herself the gift buyer. Sam didn't really mind, he loved his niece and nephew, but he wasn't exactly a kid person and the last thing he wanted to do was upset his sister. 

This was his third trip out to see Sarah and Ed since their dinner in Toronto. Two more than he would usually have made in that time period. The next visit after this one would be for his own birthday. He didn't go for big celebrations, but every year Sarah insisted on cooking him steak and baked potatoes and buying a few bottles of really nice Merlot.

Before she'd began dating Ed it had been just the two of them for dinner, and the fare was more likely to be Kraft dinner than anything that required a trip to the butcher. After she and Ed were together there had been a four or five year period where Sarah invited a different girl to every family dinner. Usually they were friends of Ed's or women she'd met through the local church where she sometimes attended mass. He knew she meant well so he didn't protest too loudly, but he was secretly pleased when she gave up on finding him the perfect woman. 

He had grown to love those birthday dinners. The kids would go stay with Ed's parents in Niagara Falls for the night and it would be just the adults. He'd missed his last birthday because he'd been deep undercover and taking a weekend for himself would have made it too hard to slip back into the addict-role, making this year extra special.

Traffic was light and Sam was able to cruise comfortably along, ten kilometres an hour above the posted limit almost the entire way. Samantha who had been watching for his truck from the living room window barely let him exit the truck before throwing herself in his arms, chattering excitedly about her new dance class and her friend Michelle's new hamster. Smiling, Sam swung her up onto his shoulders, keeping one hand on her knee to make sure she didn't fall he made his way to the house.

Samantha was the spitting image of her mother and sometimes Sam felt a sharp stab of pain when he remember what Sarah herself had been like at this age, before her innocence and confidence were brutally stolen.  Mitch was much more like Ed. He was very protective of him mom and sister. His energy was quieter, but he was a happy kid and when he set his mind to it he could make just about anyone laugh with his goofy sense of humour. 

Both were amazing kids and Sam was their favourite, and only, uncle. A weekend with them was exactly what he needed to set his restless mind at ease. 


	7. Chapter 7

Luke didn't go far when he left Andy's apartment. He made it as far as his car, parked out front, before the rational part of his brain reminded him that he couldn't just disappear for a day or two and hope that everything could go back to normal. Either Andy was cheating on him, or he was overreacting. There really wasn't a third option and he needed to consider both before he did anything to make matters even worse.

When his phone rang a few minutes later he knew without looking at the caller ID who it would be. Taking a deep breath he flipped it open, "Andy--"

 "You read my mail?"  She interrupted. Her voice was steady, but Luke could practically feel her anger radiating along the phone line.

Not that he blamed her.

He'd crossed a line. There was no denying that, or even justifying the invasion of privacy. Yet, Luke couldn't stop his mind from coming up with reasons why opening Andy's mail wasn't that different from opening a suspects mail or going through his things to see what he'd been up to. Actions he'd gotten away with, even been encouraged to use through his thirteen years as a member of the Toronto Police Department.

Of course, those suspects were not his girlfriend. And usually what they were trying to prove was murder. __

He wasn't even sure why he'd done it. Reading your girlfriend's mail was something jealous, insecure high school boyfriends did. Luke was none of those things. Well, if he were perfectly honest with himself he was the jealous type. He knew there was something going on between Andy and Sam Swarek. What exactly it was, he hadn't a clue. He did know that Sam's story didn't match the guilt in Andy's eyes the night he'd found the post it in her freezer with the other man's name on it. He was also pretty sure Sam was interested in Andy. the only thing he couldn't figure out was how Andy felt about Swarek.

"It was stupid. I'm sorry." He said, wishing he could fall through the earth so he wouldn't have to continue this conversation. there was nothing he could think of that he wanted to do less than explain to Andy why he had violated her privacy and then walked out without giving her a chance to explain why some woman named Sarah was trying to fix her up with Sam Swarek.

There was an unbearable silence on the other end of the line before Andy finally spoke. "What are we doing, Luke?"

"You tell me Andy." Luke felt a sudden surge of annoyance. Yes, he'd crossed a line. But so had she. Lying to him about Swarek, keeping secrets for months on end. He let out a frustrated sigh. It had been weeks since Swarek had barged into his office and berated him for being an idiot. But he'd never been able to shake the feeling that something had happened that night. Something more than the kiss or the nothing Andy claimed, definitely more than the 'I tried, she shot me down,' Swarek had told him.

He should have said something earlier. They should have talked it out, even if he didn't want to hear what had happened, he was certain now that not knowing was infinitely worse. Not only was his brain playing the worse case scenarios on repeat every time he didn't know where Andy was, but he'd begun to think of her the way he thought of potential suspects in his cases; someone he needed to learn the truth about, no matter what.

"Nothing." There was a finality in her tone that he had never heard before. "We are doing nothing, Luke. It's over."

"Andy..." Luke tried his most calming voice. The one he used on frantic family members when he needed to interrogate them before they had even begun to grieve.  Silence was all that came from the other end of the line, followed by the beep beep beep of a disconnected call. He resisted the urge to slam his head into the steering wheel of his car. 

o o o

Andy stood in the middle of kitchen, phone dangling from nerveless fingers for several minutes. Her mind bounced between relief and panic. Thoughts chased each other around her brain, not standing still long enough for her to examine them.

She'd broken up with Luke.

Perfect Luke. The "right" guy. The guy who was too good for her, but somehow wanted her anyway.

He would call. It wasn't really over. It was just a fight. They'd fought before and he'd come back.

What if he came back? He didn't trust her. Never had. He'd been treating her like a suspect for months.

Yeah she'd screwed up. Once. But the truth of the matter was that if Luke didn't have a pathological need to involve himself in every potentially huge case that came near fifteen she would never even have gone to Sam. But Luke hadn't stayed. Hadn't put her first. Not ever. He'd believed her when she said she was fine. For someone so bad at deception she was very good at deceiving him. Probably because he didn't pay much attention.

_Or because you are always lying to him_

Well, there was that. The only thing she'd been fully honest with Luke about was her father -- and even that she'd kept from him as long as she could.

Guilt washed over her. No wonder he treated her like a suspect. She was as guilty of deception as any suspect in interview.

She threw down the phone with a frustrated sigh. She needed a distraction, and a good stiff drink. Traci was with Leo, her dad had a meeting that night, Dove was working, Chris was off but he and Gail spent most of their off time together these days, which left her with... no one.  For the first time since joining the academy Andy wished she'd kept in touch with the people she used to spend time with.   

The cream coloured card on the counter seemed to call to her. She picked it up, rereading the brief note. She should probably say no. If she wanted to make it work with Luke she had to say no. And yet... She carried it with her, dangling from two fingers on her left hand as she went about making a drink, the only dinner she had any energy to prepare right then. 

When she pulled the vodka bottle from the freezer the contents shifted and her eyes caught sight of the yellow post it she'd frozen months earlier. _Sam Swarek_. Acting on impulse she put down the vodka and pulled out the jar and set it on the counter. She propped up the invitation beside it and backed up until she was leaning against the other counter, bringing the bottle of vodka with her. She jumped up, so she was sitting on the counter. She didn't bother to pour the vodka, just drank it straight from the bottle, eyes fixed on the frozen jar and the card propped up beside it.

The two pieces of hard evidence of her betrayal. Funny that it still didn't really feel like betrayal.   

o o o

After a delicious spaghetti dinner and birthday cupcakes for the kids, the family moved to the living room so Mitch could open the remote control car Sarah had bought with Sam's money and wrapped up in shiny blue paper.

The car was met with an exclamation of excitement from both kids and a quick hug for Sam before Mitch launched himself at his mother begging to be able to try it outside right that instant. Gently but firmly Sarah told her son he could play with the car in the kitchen that evening, but he would have to wait until the morning to play outside.

Sam's heart contracted painfully at the familiar hints of fear in Sarah's eyes at the thought of her ten year old son playing outside in the dusk. She was so much better than she'd been before the kids were born and sometimes he let himself forget the terrified shell of a woman she had been for more than a decade. It was moments like this when the fear reared its ugly head.

Ed squeezed his wife's hand before turning to his disappointed son. "How about you, Samantha and I see if we can find your old remote control truck and some batteries. Then in the morning you and Uncle Sam can race them at the park?"

Mitch's eyes lit up at the prospect of a morning alone with his uncle and soon he was dragging his dad towards the garage where some of the less used toys lived. Sarah smiled after them. The remote control truck Ed was talking about was five years old at least and mostly held together with duct tape after it had survived an unfortunate run in with the neighbour's riding mower. They'd taped the truck back together and Mitch had continued playing with it for the next several months before it eventually ended up with many of the other rarely touched toys, in a box in their garage.

"What time do you have to leave in the morning?" she asked, turning her attention to her brother.

"I'm back on shift Friday morning, so I thought I'd head back into the city around noon, avoid the worst of the traffic."  He held her eyes with his, "Everything okay?"

Sarah nodded. She knew Sam worried about her, especially when she set down the law and prevented her children from doing something that the Swareks hadn't thought twice about when Sam and Sarah were growing up. She told herself that the world was a more dangerous place now than when they were kids, but she knew deep down that it was her own fears that were really to blame for the sometimes restrictive rules she set on her children's outdoor play time.

"You would tell me if it wasn't?" Sam's gaze was loving, but there was steel in his voice.

"Probably not," she admitted.

He laughed at that. "Well at least you're honest about that."

Sarah shifted a little in her seat, they didn't have long before Ed would return with the kids. "How's Andy? I keep hoping one of these days you'll bring her for a visit. I'm sure the kids would love her."  

"Subtle, Sarah." Came Ed's amused voice from the doorway before Sam had a chance to deflect the question.

"Andy is fine," Sam said, smiling at Ed. "I'll tell her you say hi."

"You do that." There was something in her tone that set off Sam's internal lie detector, but before he could pursue it Mitch and Samantha were back, a package of batteries and the duct taped remote control monster truck with them.

The rest of Sam's visit passed playing with his niece and nephew. If he was avoiding being alone with his sister he would never admit it. 


	8. Chapter 8

Sam leaned against the trunk of a maple tree, cup of hot coffee in one hand. A dozen yards away Mitch and his best friend Chuck were trying to make the new remote control car flip by running it into every obstacle in sight. Lester B Pearson park was a great place for kids. There was a playground as well as a water park for the summer and plenty of green space. The kids spent a lot of time there, always under the watchful eye of a parent.   
  
Sam remembered, when he was even younger than Mitch, he and Sarah used to play in Moss park for hours unsupervised. Yet another thing that had changed when Sarah was attacked. The kids didn't seem to mind the extra supervision, but sometimes Sam worried about when they were a little older. There were few teenagers in his experience who would tolerate dusk curfews and constant parental presence.   
  
"She only meddles because she wants you to be happy." Ed spoke without turning away from the boys.   
  
Sam turned to look at his brother-in-law. "I know." He sighed audibly.   
  
"But you wish she'd leave well enough alone?" Ed guessed.   
  
Sam pondered this for several moments before responding. It wasn't, he realized, that Sarah was pushing him to pursue Andy that bothered him. It was the feeling that if he failed it wouldn't just be his heart getting bruised. "I don't want to let her down."   
  
"Sarah?"   
  
Sam nodded.   
  
Ed chuckled, earning a glare from Sam. "You know you could never disappoint her, right?" When Sam didn't immediately respond, Ed continued. "She wants you to be happy, but more than that, I think she is secretly hoping that if you are in a serious relationship you'll be less likely to do something heroic and get yourself killed."   
  
It was an angle Sam hadn't considered, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Sarah had never liked that he was a cop. She felt responsible for sending him into a job that killed many officers every year and injured countless others and more than once she'd tried to talk him into transferring somewhere safer. it wasn't a great leap from that to what Ed was saying. "Is there anything you don't know?"   
  
Ed grinned broadly. "The utility of napkin rings has always puzzled me a bit."  
  
Sam was still laughing when Sarah and Samantha joined them. Samantha was covered in dirt and grass stains, but her entire face was lit up with excitement as she launched herself at Sam. "Horsie?   
  
Handing his mostly empty coffee cup to Sarah, Sam obliged his niece, hoisting her on his shoulders before taking off at a slow jog. Samantha clung to his coat with one hand, giggling with delight.   
  
"He's going to make the best father." Sarah said absently, leaning back into Ed's chest.   
  
Ed wrapped his arms around her, "And here I thought I was the best father."   
  
She swatted him with one hand. "You know what I mean." She felt more than heard his chuckle.   
  
"You're putting the cart in front of the horse again, love."   
  
"I hate that he's alone," she said in a wistful voice.   
  
Sensing her real distress, Ed attempted to lighten the mood. "What are we, chopped liver?"   
  
"You're trying to tease me out of worrying aren't you?" She half turned her head so she could see his face. This was one of the thousand things she loved about her husband, his ability to cut through her often dark thoughts and remind her of all the gifts life had given her.   
  
"Is it working?"  
  
Sarah turned around within her husband's embrace and kissed him on the chin. "Maybe."  
  
"Now who's the tease?" Ed asked, capturing her lips with his own.

**o o o**

"What do you think they're doing?" Chris asked, tilting his head in the direction of Gail and Dove. "they wouldn't give them anything really important would they?"

Andy shrugged. "We're the rookies, pretty sure they're not going to be taking out bank robbers singlehandedly. "

"Ha ha, very funny." Chris grumbled.

Andy just rolled her eyes."Come on, Chris. It's only been two days. Maybe we'll catch a murderer today."

Two days. That was how long it had been since they'd been cut loose. It was also how long since she'd worked with Traci. Somehow she'd never realized that once they were done their training the Rookies would be rolled into the regular rotation. In her mind she'd always pictured them carrying on much as they had only with better cases, less paper work and more free time. The happy delusion was rapidly fading into the dull grey of reality.

They had been split up to help out where needed in the schedule. Andy was on the same rotation as Chris as well as Sam and Oliver Shaw, Dove and Gail were on the same shift as Noelle. Though their shifts overlapped, their days off were different and she knew that there may be entire weeks where they saw each other once or twice. Traci had taken a desk job so she could spend more time with Leo, which meant she was on a completely different schedule.  

The hours were not the only part of the job that refused to live up to Andy's hopes. The paperwork had someone managed to get more tedious, perhaps because they now reported directly to Best who was not afraid to kick a little ass in order to get things done. Andy remembered when she thought Boyko was terrifying, now she missed him. Boyko had a sort of grandfatherly charm about him. He'd wanted to teach them, not punish them. When he'd told her to be better she'd wanted to move mountains, when Best told her not to screw up she wanted to toe the line.  

She'd also never realized how much strength she'd drawn from Sam's presence. Somewhere in her mind Andy had told herself that her Training Officer was no different from any other partner, that she was a cop and had been for months already even if she'd technically been on probation. She had been so wrong.  Even when she'd wanted to strangle him, which was often, she knew Sam had her back.  More than knew, felt and believed without even having to think about it. It was an incredible level of trust, and she'd taken it entirely for granted.

Chris was a good guy and a good cop. He followed the rules and even though he sometimes lost himself in protocol he had good instincts. Of all the rookies, Andy was glad it was Chris she was partnered with. Yet, they hadn't been through enough to truly trust each other. They were both painfully new and Andy always felt a little dread when a call came through for them. She wasn't sure what would happen if they were the sole responders to anything serious, she just knew she didn't feel ready.  

Today it was her turn to drive. She adjusted the seat of the cruiser, pulling it forward several notches to account for the height difference between herself and Chris.  She took her time adjusting the mirrors before turning the keys in the ignition.

It was a pretty quiet day. The sun had been shining most of the day, and despite the smell of snow in the air the roads were clear of ice and snow. They dealt with a noise complaint around dinner time, but otherwise they spent most of the night driving through the streets, half hoping someone would do something incredibly stupid to break up the monotony.   

At 11:30 they got their wish. "138 at 418 Church, closest unit please respond."

"1519, 10-4" Chris said into the radio as Andy turned west on Carleton St.

They were only a few blocks away and in just a few minutes they were pulling up to The Barn,  a gay bar on Church St locally known for their overly aggressive security staff and drag shows. A sizable crowd was gathered around the large red building, a cloud of blue-grey cigarette smoke hovering above their heads. Andy hadn't seen this much body glitter or that many sequin covered outfits since high school prom.  She was pretty sure by the mild panic on Chris' face that he'd probably never seen anything like this before. Timmins wasn't exactly known for its raging gay scene.

They stepped out of the cruiser in unison, and walked across the street. The crowd moved aside for them and it wasn't long before Andy saw the reason they'd been called.

A man in a crimson dress and four inch silver pumps was pinned on the ground, flailing his arms at a blonde, long haired, person who appeared to be trying to strangle him.  Chris stepped in first, grabbing the blonde and pulling the pair apart. The blonde it turned out, when they got him upright, was also a man in drag.  

Andy stepped in with the cuffs and before long they had both men cuffed and stuffed in the back of the cruiser. They spent a few minutes taking statements. Everyone's stories matched up, the blonde had scammed on the man in the red dress's date and from there it had quickly devolved to hair pulling and punches. The bouncers had thrown the pair outside and called the cops.  

The men spent the entire drive sniping at each other under their breath as if the police in the front of the cruiser wouldn't hear them if they spoke softly. Andy wanted to tell them to shut it, but she was pretty sure all that would do was encourage them to speak more loudly, so she held her peace and pushed the speed limit all the way back to fifteen.  

She followed Chris into the station, forcibly leading the smaller of the men by the elbow. Booking was quiet and they managed to get the men into separate cells, though not far enough from one another that they couldn't continue their sniping match.

The previous night's drinking combined with a long day was threatening to give Andy a migraine. She rubbed at her temples.

"Hey," Chris placed a concerned hand on her shoulder, "You okay?"

She nodded, "Headache."

"Why don't you get started on the paper work." he suggested.

"Like he would be interested in _that_ fat ass!" The blonde was leaning against the bars and glaring at the other man.

"At least I don't have HERPES!!" He retorted at top volume.

"Paper work sounds great," Andy said, jumping at the chance to get away from the noise. She shot one last look back at Chris as she left the room, wanting to make sure he would be alright with their two drunk, and completely riled, subjects.

She stopped to pour herself a cup of steaming coffee before getting to work. With any luck the caffeine would cut the pain in her temples to a bearable level.  

When she saw Luke's familiar frame leaning against the wall in earnest conversation with Detective Erico, Andy froze. She hadn't seen Luke since before she ended their relationship over a phone call. She'd expected him to call her again, or come by the apartment to talk, or even to seek her out at work, he hadn't and part of her had been extremely relieved that he hadn't. That part of her was screaming at her now to run away. The other part of her, however, the part that missed him terribly and hated how things had ended so badly, wanted him to look up, give her a smile of acknowledgement and let things get back to normal.

Luke looked up.

Andy's heart rate tripled and she felt like she'd forgotten how to breathe normally. He was looking at her, at least his eyes were on her, but his face was a complete blank. She might have been a piece of furniture for all the recognition and acknowledgement in his gaze.

She felt a white hot flush of embarrassment followed swiftly by anger. How _dare_  he ignore her like that. Like the last six months hadn't happened. Like she had never hurt him, and he had never hurt her. Seething with this righteous indignation, Andy held her head high and walked past him, not stopping until she was at her desk.


	9. Chapter 9

Friday morning Andy arrived early at the station to finish the paperwork she'd fallen behind on that week. She'd been distracted and edgy for two days. Ever since she'd told Luke it was over she'd kept expecting him to pull her aside or call her to talk things out. He hadn't. Instead he'd continued to look through her whenever they were in She probably shouldn't have been surprised. Even when things were good they'd never done much talking. At least not about the state of their relationship, or anything important really. 

Yet, despite the occasional burst of anger, she missed him and more than once she'd picked up her phone to call him. Maybe she'd been too hasty. The envelope had her name on it, yes, and it was her private property, but he was a detective, invading people's private property to find out the truth was sort of his job. Of course the next thought was always, one about how he'd been treating her like a suspect for months.

By Friday she had given up expecting to see him except in passing. But when someone placed a still steaming cup of coffee before her when she was in the middle of filling out a form she assumed it was Luke and felt a little thrill in the pit of her stomach that could have been anxiety or excitement, she wasn't sure which.  "Thank you," she said, waiting until she was finished the section she was working on before looking up. 

"You're welcome." Sam answered. He looked pleased with himself when she jumped in surprise, nearly spilling the drink all over her painstakingly completed forms. "Careful there McNally, I don't think the prosecutor likes it when his arrest reports smell like coffee. Sends the bomb dogs into a frenzy."

"Isn't it the drug dogs who go mental for coffee?" She asked with a smile.

Sam looked good. Great even. She wondered if he'd spent his days off with his sister again. He certainly looked extremely relaxed. The brief thought that he was merely this relaxed because he no longer had to put up with her flashed across her mind but she squashed it quickly. Despite their awkward beginning and the lingering tensions between them, she and Sam were friends.

"Probably," he admitted with a shrug. "Still I don't think the Ds like handing over anything less than pristine so the principle holds."

Andy took a moment to slide the completed paper work into a brown folder. "It's okay. I was done anyway."

"Sarah says hi."

Andy smiled. She'd guessed right. "How is she?"

"Good, good. Mitch, her youngest, is turning ten tomorrow."

 The cream coloured birthday dinner invitation popped back into Andy's mind. She still hadn't replied. Part of her wondered if Sam even knew the dinner was happening, let alone that she had been invited. After meeting Sarah she wouldn't have been surprised if the answer was no. "When is your birthday?" She asked, watching his face carefully for a reaction.

"October 14."

Andy took a long drink of piping hot, milky coffee before asking, "Doing anything special?"

"Sarah usually cooks dinner for the three of us." He shrugged.

"Not a partier?" She teased. It was nearly impossible to imagine Sam, even the lame joke cracking version she'd come to know, participating in a party. The idea of him in one of those ridiculous pointed hats with streamers sticking out the top was almost enough to send her into hysterics.

"Nah," Sam's lip curled at the idea. He hadn't been to a birthday party since he was nine years old. The night Sarah was attacked. Other than the dinners and parties Sarah threw for her kids he didn't imagine he would ever have a desire to go to a birthday party again.  "I'm not enough fun for parties. Much better with just the family."

"Sounds nice." Andy said, a little wistfully. For a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on, Sam's words stung.

o o o

"What's up with you and Homicide Luke?" Traci asked, tracking the blonde detective's progress across the room, "He looks pissed."

Andy shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Traci was right, Luke who had been ignoring her for two days now, looking cool as a cucumber every time she passed him looked seriously pissed off today.  He shot a hostile glare in her direction and she dropped her gaze. She'd been hoping this particular conversation with Traci could wait until after work. Preferably somewhere private where no one from work would overhear. "We broke up," she said softly.

Traci's eyes widened. "You what? Why? _When?_ "

"Tuesday night." Andy glanced furtively around the office, letting out a silent sigh of relief when she cause sight of Sam in earnest conversation with Staff Sergeant Best on the far side of the room, far out of earshot.

"Are you okay?" Traci took a seat behind the desk and pushed the other chair closer to Andy with her foot.

Andy sank into it. Allowing herself to relax at work for the first time in days, felt great. This was exactly why everyone said to never date someone you work with. Seeing your ex every day at work was intensely awkward. "I'm fine. I don't know. It's..."

"Weird." Traci finished for her. "You guys were hot and heavy a week ago. What the hell happened?" Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "You didn't..."

Andy raised both eyebrows. "What?"

Traci craned her neck and did a quick scan of the office before whispering. "Hook up with Swarek again?"

Flushing scarlet, Andy shook her head vehemently. "What? No!"

"Simmer down," Traci was grinning now, "I had to ask."

Andy laughed. One of the things she loved about Traci was her easy acceptance of everything at face value, at least when it came to her friends. She had a gift for asking just the right questions and for going along with it even when she smelled rat knowing that eventually the truth would come out. She definitely wasn't one to say 'I told you so'. Which was probably good since Andy figured she had one coming to her at some point.

"But seriously, if it wasn't Swarek, what the hell happened?"

Before Andy could answer Sam's voice cut into their conversation. "McNally you ready to go?"

Andy rose to her feet hastily, shooting Traci a look of wide eyed panic. _Please tell me he didn't hear any of that_ , she begged of the universe. Apart from the utter mortification of her best friend crediting Sam for the breakup of her and Luke, Andy was reluctant to tell Sam about the breakup. She wasn't sure why, but she suspected it had something to do with the 'I told you so' she deserved but couldn't bear to hear right now.  

He had warned her. Not that she would fuck things up of course, but that things would go sideways. He'd told her Luke was a serial monogamist with a preference for rookies, a workaholic and a good guy who would  look at the facts if you gave him a chance. He'd been right on all counts and though he'd never come right out and said that she and Luke were doomed to fail, she'd always half suspected he thought so.

There was one other reason she didn't want to tell Sam. A reason she wasn't sure how to interpret herself. She didn't want to tell him, because she wasn't sure he would care.

There was a time, months earlier, when she thought there was something between them. But in recent weeks they had become friends and she wondered if she'd made the rest up in her head. Sure he'd kissed her back the night of the blackout, but she couldn't think of a guy who wouldn't respond the same way. She'd thrown herself at him, all desperate sadness and need for human contact. She'd practically tackled him. Since dinner with his sister, where he'd made it quite clear he didn't care one way or the other what she did with Luke, things had been very smooth with Sam. They were friends. Just friends.

 _Sam doesn't have female friends, never has_.

She was afraid to admit, even to herself, how much she wanted Sarah's words to be true. But the realist in her mind warned her that she had probably read more into that statement than Sarah had truly meant. Sarah loved her brother, she wanted him safe and happy. If Andy cared about Sam and knew his family she'd be more likely to go the extra mile to keep him safe. That was it. That was all there was.  

"Let's go." She said, forcing a casual smile she didn't feel. Looking at Sam, leaning against the wall, half smile on his face as he waited for her to sling her bag over her shoulder, her heart lurched traitorously. The partner she trusted with her life. She missed him when he wasn't there. He was the first one she turned to when she had a problem she couldn't solve on her own. She wondered if she'd just made the rest of it up so she wouldn't have to feel like a silly school girl with a crush on teacher. God, she hoped not. 


	10. Chapter 10

The call came as they were swinging out onto Dundas St, just twenty minutes after they pulled out of fifteen. "All available units we've got a Code 1 at Moss Park, behind the arena. Possible death. All units please respond."  




Exchanging a grim look with Sam, Andy lifted the radio. "1505, 10-4. We're five minutes out."

Lights flashing, siren blaring, it took Sam less than three minutes to get to Queen Street East and into a the arena parking lot. Andy grabbed a roll of police tape and followed her partner into the park. She could see a small crowd of people a dozen yards away. A man in a yellow jacket waved them over. As they approached the bystanders fanned out, giving them their first view of the body.

It was a girl. She looked about thirteen. Her blue eyes were frozen open, staring unseeing at the feet of the people surrounding her.  There were bruises all over her body and blood matted her long blonde hair. She was naked and a quick scan of the area revealed no clothing.  

Andy felt like she might be sick.

It wasn't her first dead body. Or even her first dead teen. But this was something much worse than a drunken teenager falling off a building. Someone had caused this, enjoyed this even. The abrasion on her forehead looked like she'd been pushed or tripped from behind and smashed to the ground face first.  There was blood on the inside of her thighs and pooled under her body. Andy wasn't certain, but it  looked like she'd been beaten with a baseball bat or other hard, oblong object. And as if all of that pain wasn't enough, Andy could see rings of blackened bruising around the girl's neck like she'd been strangled.

One thing was absolutely certain. This death had not been slow. Andy scanned the small crowd of onlookers. They all looked suitably horrified, yet they stayed. She wondered if any of them had heard this girl's screams, and if they had, if they'd tried to help.

Sam was already on his cell phone, letting Homicide know the 911 call was legitimate and requesting a coroner on the scene, so Andy set to work backing up the bystanders. She wished several times she could cover up the girl's body, but protocol dictated no one was to touch her until the scene had been photographed. So she did her best not to look as she strung up police tape, marking a clear no-civilians zone around the body.  

Sam stood just a few feet away from the body, cell phone pressed to his ear. He kept Andy in his peripheral vision, noting with something akin to pride that she seemed to be handling herself well. By the time Diaz and Shaw arrived on the scene the police tape was up and she was busy taking statements.

"I'm five minutes out, don't let anyone touch the body until I get there." Luke Callaghan's voice was unusually terse. Sam couldn't really blame him, the death of a young person was always hard to deal with.  Still, Sam had worked in the same division as Callaghan long enough to know there was something else on the detective's mind that was adding a bite to his usually well modulated voice. "You got it," was all he said before snapping his phone closed and waving McNally over.

"No one saw it happen," Andy started speaking as soon as she was within range.  "The guy in the yellow jacket found her and called 911. Everyone else seems to have come by after and stayed for the show." There was a note of disgust in her voice.

Sam resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She was still so new at this job. Soon, too soon, she would learn that people can rarely resist observing other people's misfortunes and begin to regard the crowds of bystanders as nothing more than scenery. "Okay. Homicide is on the way. I need  you to stay with the body, make sure no one touches anything until the Ds get here."

Andy gave him a once over. He was unusually tense, his shoulders stiff, his arms stiff at his sides. She got the feeling that if she gave him a little push he would fall over because his joints were held too tightly to compensate for the change in balance. "You alright?"

Sam shrugged. "There ones are tough." It wasn't a complete answer, but his tone made it clear he wasn't willing to go into details.

Andy stopped herself short of asking if it was tough because of Sarah. He had never shared the details of his sister's attack, and she didn't want to pry. Yet she couldn't shake off the similarities between this victim, and how she imagined Sarah Swarek had looked as a thirteen year old. She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to focus on the current victim. The past would still be there when the case was over.

Satisfied that Andy could keep any press or overly nosy onlooker away from the body, Sam backed away, keeping clear of the bystanders who were still waiting to give their statements or just to see what would happen next. Oliver and Diaz were still taking statements, but it was really more of a formality than anything likely to break the case. The men who had done this would be long gone. Probably safely home with their trophies, waiting to see if they made headline news.

He'd seen something like this three times before since joining fifteen. The detectives would have their own theories, but as far as Sam was concerned this was the eighteenth in a string of violent attacks on pre-teen girls in Moss Park in the last 27 years. Not all the girls had died. Some, like Sarah, had screamed so loudly that someone came to see what was going on before it was too late. So far only seven attacks had ended in death. Three in 1985, another two in 1998 and then one a year in 2000, 2001 and 2008.

He'd been involved in the 1998 investigation, but removed from the case when the lead detective disagreed with Sam's assertions that it was the work of a serial attacker or group of attackers. The detective had requested Sam be sent back to the streets, but had mercifully kept the reason why to himself. That was thirteen years earlier, back when he was as fresh as McNally was today. This time Sam knew more. He would let the Ds do their investigation their way. But when they found a suspect he would be right there. This time they would get them. And finally, _finally_ , it would be over.

"Swarek?" Oliver placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking lightly. "Sam!"

"Sorry." Sam forced his mind back to the present. "What did you say?"

"The park's been closed off. The Ds just arrived. Diaz and I are heading back to the station to see if we can get anything from the traffic cams. We've taken statements from everyone over there," he pointed to the huddle of people still standing at the edge of the scene, "nothing suspicious so they've been cleared to go."

Sam nodded. "Thanks." He and McNally would have to stay on the scene until the coroner took the body, but for the time being their work was mostly done. He was relieved that they wouldn't be called upon much for the next half hour. He needed some time to get his head on straight.  

o o o

In the eight years Luke Callaghan had worked homicide in the Toronto Police Service, he'd been involved in thirty-three murder investigations, nine of which involved children. He'd learned quickly how vital it was to put a tight lid on his own emotions and to attack each case with detached logic. Not that he was always successful. He didn't know anyone who could face the mother of a murdered child without losing at least some of their objectivity. But he had become very good at shutting the lid on those emotions until the investigation was complete.

The facts, they were what made the case. Feelings were messy. They clouded judgement. Feelings had no place in a murder investigation. Murder cases were like puzzles. Every piece was important. No detail was too small or too insignificant to look at. Sometimes the piece that didn't seem to fit with the rest was the key to unravelling the entire thing. Other times it wasn't until the whole picture fell perfectly together that you saw who was responsible. More often, however, you ended up with a partial set. A smattering of facts and details, with huge gaps, and you had to do your very best to figure out the whole picture from the tattered fragments at hand.  But no matter how many or how few details there were. When it came to solving the case, the details were everything.

Sometimes he knew he got lost in the details. Clamping a lid over his emotions was always easier if he kept those feelings sealed off until after the case was solved. When Luke was working a case he locked into a tunnel vision. Nothing mattered outside the pinpoint circle of light that was the latest clue. it was only when the whole picture came together that he was able to step back and give life his full attention. More than one girlfriend had ended things for exactly that reason.

When he'd first become a detective Luke had purposefully thrown himself into his work to avoid his life. Now, eight years later, he was doing it again. Andy McNally was not the first Rookie he'd hooked up with. But there was something special about her, an intangible quality that kept him on the hook even when he suspected she had been unfaithful. Which was why Luke volunteered to take this case. He needed something powerful to take his mind off Andy and Sam Swarek. Throwing himself into work might allow him to erase the mental image of them together. He would never understand what Swarek had that he didn't, but there was no denying the connection between Sam and Andy. Luke just wished he'd figured that out sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such an idiot.

Andy wasn't the only reason Luke had taken an interest in the Moss Park homicide. There had been multiple accounts of assault, rape and murder in Moss Park dating back to the 1980s. Most had been attributed to random acts of violence and remained unsolved, but Luke wasn't convinced they were as random as they might have appeared to previous detectives. Luke didn't like to think anything was random.  If he was right, the perp or perps had been getting away with this for over twenty years. They weren't going to stop until someone stopped them. And that someone might as well be him. And if he had to work with Swarek and McNally to get it done, he would find a way,

It wouldn't be easy. He'd spent the last two days nursing his wounded pride and trying to pretend Andy McNally didn't exist. The latter should have been easy. She worked the streets, he was a Detective with a private office who spent half his time at the courthouse. He'd had a hard time seeing her when he'd wanted to. Avoiding her should have been simple.

It wasn't. Every time he turned around she was there. She was at a desk filling out paperwork, her brow slightly furrowed in deep concentration, or she was chatting and laughing with Chris Diaz, or, like this morning, Swarek was bringing her coffee and she was smiling at Sam like to she used to smile at him.  It was enough to make his blood boil. 


	11. Chapter 11

Sam barely said a word the entire drive back to fifteen. His mind was already back at the station. Andy tried three times to engage him in conversation before giving him up as a lost cause. But that didn't stop her from watching him anxiously from the corner of her eye until the climbed out of the car.  

"I'll get started on the report."

Sam nodded. "Thanks." He waited only until she settled at a desk before turning in the direction of the records room.

In general Sam spent very little time in the file room at fifteen division. He was a man of action. Sorting through unsolved case files in search of that final clue that would break the puzzle wide open had never appealed to him.  At least not before today.

In '98 he'd let the Ds do the boring work. Back then he was green and optimistic. He'd firmly believed that anyone truly looking for the truth was bound to find it. It was naive, and he'd been very wrong. The detectives did make an arrest in '98, but at trial DNA evidence proved they'd arrested the wrong man and the jury cleared him despite the mountain of circumstantial evidence the detectives had mounted against him.

Sam would not make the mistake of leaving research to the Ds again.          

He placed the stack of files in a box and carried them back to his desk. Eleven files in all. As he opened the most recent file, Sam wondered how many more victims there were. Despite teams of Sexual Assault Nurse Examiners at every Toronto hospital and strong policies on reporting rape to the police, the crime was still depressingly underreported.

 _June 3_ , _2009._ Sam had been on vacation when this one was called in. He'd heard about it on the news before quickly switching off the TV and dragging Sarah's entire family outside to place basketball in the driveway so she wouldn't decide to turn on the TV.

He would have to call Ed at some point today to make sure Sarah was out of the house for the news hour tonight. It was almost a sure thing that the murder would make the headline news. There was nothing the stations loved more than milking a tragedy for all the ratings it was worth.

Sarah was infinitely better now than she’d been when they were children. But headline news attack similar to hers and in the same place was sure to bring back the memories and the nightmares that went with them, something neither Ed nor Sam wanted to see again. Neither of them would ever forget April 2004.

_Sam had barely shut the door behind him when the phone started to ring. He was tempted to let it go to voicemail. It had been a hellishly long day. Barber was working a rape and murder case, and Sam had been hard pressed to focus on handing out traffic violations, knowing that a few kilometres away, a mother was being poured a cup of crappy coffee and told her daughter had been killed in one of the worst ways possible and dumped in a ravine. They already had a suspect in custody, an ex boyfriend of the fifteen year old victim, but that did nothing to ease Sam's troubled mind._

_He checked the call display. It was Ed. He picked up the phone, “Is Sarah okay?”_

_His sister was eight months pregnant with her second child. Her first had come three weeks early and required an emergency c-section so they were preparing for a similar situation this time. Two days ago she’d called, whinging that her doctor had insisted on bed rest for the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Sam had already told the station he may need a few extra days off if he was needed in St. Catharine’s to look after two year old Mitch while Ed took care of Sarah at the hospital._

_“Can you come out here tonight?” Ed’s voice was strained and Sam’s heart rate tripled._

_“What happened?”He picked up the car keys from the table where he’d dropped them only minutes earlier._

_“She saw the attack on the news.”_

_That was all Sam needed to hear. “I’m leaving right now.”_

_“Thank you, Sammy. I would handle it, but with Mitch and the pregnancy—“_

_“I’m glad you called.” Sam interrupted._

_Sam had been taking care of Sarah since their parents died thirteen years earlier. Since she’d married Ed and moved to St. Catharines she had leaned on her brother less and less. But he would always leap to her protection. It was just who he was._

_The ninety minute drive from his Toronto town house to St. Catharines was one of the longest in Sam’s life. He kept replaying over and over in his mind the last time Sarah had freaked out over a newscast. It was before she and Ed married and she’d been home alone at the time. When Sam came home that night he’d found her huddled in the corner of her room, shivering, tears coursing down her cheeks She’d bolted every window in the house shut and drawn the blinds tightly, yet when he walked in the room she’d screamed in terror, as if he were carrying a knife and about to plunge it into her jugular. Neighbours, hearing the screams had called police and Sarah had ended up spending three days in St. Joseph's Hospital and several months on a double dose of her usual anti-anxiety medication._

_Anti-anxiety medication she now hadn’t taken in over 3 years, first because of her pregnancy, then because she insisted on breast feeding and then because she wanted to try for a second child right away._

_She'd fared remarkably well of the medication, but that didn't stop the men in her life from worrying. Sam pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor and prayed no traffic cops were working the 407 that night._

_The front door to Sarah and Ed's home was dead bolted and even though Sam had keys to both the main locks, he ended up having to ring the bell and wait for his brother in law to come let him in. The house was eerily quiet. Usually Sarah hated silence. She wasn't one for loud music or the type to leave a TV on just for the company, but most of the time the house was filled with little noises. Sarah humming to herself while she cooked, Mitch babbling happily to himself in his jolly jumper, and all the other sounds that made the house a home. Today there was dead silence._

_"She's upstairs," Ed said softly. There were tight lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth._

_Sam nodded, slipping off his shoes and coat and discarding them next to the door. "Mitch?" He asked after a quick scan of the living area failed to reveal his nephew._

_"Upstairs." He ran a hand over his face, "She won't let him out of her sight."_

_"Did you call her doctor?"_

_Ed shook his head. "I didn't want to leave her alone."_

_Sam sighed heavily. "Okay. Let me talk to her, see if I can get her to come down."_

_"Thank you, Sam."_

_Sam waved off the thanks. He was her brother. Where else was he going to be. "See if you can get her doctor on the line."_

_Ed didn't look happy, but he nodded his agreement and stepped back to let Sam by._

_At the top of the stairs, Sam hesitated. He stood for several seconds, perfectly still, listening. when no sound came he forced his fear down and put on his best cheerful brother tone. "Sarah?" He called, "It's Sam."_

_"Sammy?" Her voice was so quiet he almost missed it._

_Sam walked slowly in the direction of Mitch's bedroom, the door was slightly ajar and he was fairly sure that was where she was. "It's me." He cracked the door open further open and poked his head in. Sarah was huddled in the corner, her three year old son clutched to her chest. "Can I come in?"_

_She nodded, watching him with wide, unblinking eyes._

_Sam stepped into the room and closed the door gently before sliding down to sit with his back against it._

_"Uncle Sam!" Mitch's happy cry split the air. The toddler stretched his pudgy little arms out to his uncle, fighting against his mother's hold._

_"Hi buddy." Sam said, smiling though he didn't feel like it._

_"Me go to Uncle Sam!" Mitch announced, wiggling his body around so he could push against his mother._

_Sarah held on tighter than ever. "No Mitch." Her voice was tight with fear._

_"It's okay," Sam said, keeping his voice steady. "I'm right here." Slowly so he wouldn't stress his sister more, Sam slid along the wall until he was in range of his nephew. "Mitch is okay."_

_She was trembling, but she didn't resist when he reached for her son and gently pulled Mitch into his lap._

_Mitch, happy that he'd gotten his way, immediately began to play with the various patches and buttons on Sam's uniform, babbling happily to himself. Sam didn't take his eyes off his sister._

_"I'm scared, Sammy."_

_"I know." He placed one hand on her knee. "But I'm right here, and you're going to be okay."_

_"Promise?" She wrapped protective arms over her very swollen belly._

_Sam nodded. "I promise."_

_She seemed to relax slightly after that. Her lips still trembled, but she no longer looked as if she would flee at the slightest movement. They sat in silence for what could have been seconds or hours, Sam couldn't tell._

_When Mitch began to squirm in his uncle's arms, Sam knew it was time. "Do you trust me, Sarah?"_

_She nodded, slowly, as if she wanted to say no, but couldn't bring herself to lie._

_"You are going to be okay." He said it firmly, as if he could pass his conviction to her just through the power of his voice._

_She nodded again, even more slowly._

_"Say it."_

_She took a deep breath, "I'm going to be okay." It was a whisper, but it was something._

_"Yes you are." He forced a smile. "Ed's pretty worried about you guys."_

_Sarah 's arms dropped The panic that had held her muscles in a vice grip suddenly turning to liquid. She took a deep, shuddering breath._

_"We're going to take you to the hospital." Sam said softly, watching her very closely for any sign the fear was returning. She flinched but it was clear she was too tired to really care. "Okay?"_

_"Okay."_

_Sam rose slowly into a crouch, setting Mitch gently on his feet. "Mitch," he said holding his nephew's gaze. "You stay with mommy, okay?"_

_The little boy nodded. "'Kay."_

_"I'll be right outside," Sam held her gaze until she nodded in agreement._

_Ed was standing right outside, back against the wall, arms tight across his chest. "How is she?"_

_Sam shrugged. "She's pretty shaken up." He regarded his brother in law carefully. "What happened?"_

_Ed took a deep shaky breath. "She was going stir crazy with the pregnancy and the bed rest, so I brought a TV up. I didn't even think about it..." He looked down, "I came up to bring her dinner and she was just..." He ran both hands over his face, "She was just sitting there on the floor."_

_"It's not your fault." Sam said firmly. "This isn't the first time, and it probably won't be the last." He watched Ed carefully, and was happy to see that Sarah's husband seemed to accept the possibility with the steady resolve that made him the perfect man for Sarah._

_"Thank you, Sam. I don't know what we would do without you."_

_Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.  "I'm her brother," he said at last. "Why don't you go in there. She's agreed to go to the hospital to get checked out. I'll stay here with Mitch until you're home."_

_Ed nodded. "They're sending an ambulance, it should be here soon."_

_"I'll wait for them downstairs." Sam assured him. For the moment at least his brotherly duty was done. The family needed to be alone together. He pulled his cell phone out when he reached the bottom of the stairs and called fifteen division. By the time the paramedics arrived to bring Sarah to the hospital, he'd arranged a week's leave from work so he could be there for her and Ed._

_When the paramedics arrived, Sam ushered them in and led them up to Sarah's room. "Wait here," he instructed, slipping into the room and letting the door swing mostly shut behind him._

_Ed was sitting on the floor, his exhausted and extremely pregnant wife cradled against his chest. Sarah wasn't shaking anymore, at least not badly enough to be seen from the other side of the room, but her eyes were wide and she jumped a little when Sam spoke._

_"The paramedics are here to take you and the baby to the hospital, Sarah." He pushed the door open and gestured for the paramedics to enter, eyes never leaving his sister's face._

_She shook her head. "No.. I can't -- Maybe tomorrow." Her voice started out whisper soft but rose steadily in volume and pitch, "It's not safe. Mitch needs me here. I can't."_

_"Sarah," the taller of the paramedics, knelt a few feet away from her. "My name is Michael. Everything is going to be okay."_

_"No." Her feet scrambled for purchase on the hardwood floor, but even if her socks hadn't slid uselessly  across the floor, there was nowhere to go. "Don't make me. Please!"_

_Sam's heart contracted painfully. He knew they needed to get her to the hospital before she hurt herself or the baby, but part of him wanted to forcibly remove the paramedics, if only to temporarily relieve Sarah's fear._

_"Your baby needs to go to the hospital." Michael kept his voice calm and made no move towards Sarah._

_"I'll go tomorrow." Sarah said, turning her head into Ed's chest and closing her eyes tightly. "I can't go right now."_

_The shorter paramedic, his jacket said_ Collins _, looked over Sarah's head at Ed. "We can sedate her if we have to, but there are risks to her and the baby."_

_Ed looked helplessly to Sam. They'd dealt with Sarah's panic attacks before, but the pregnancy made everything infinitely worse. And this decision, whether to let the paramedics sedate his wife, maybe harming the baby, or to let Sarah keep panicking, which could also harm the baby was not one he was prepared to make._

_Sam forced his face to relax into a smile. His stomach was tied in cold knots, but right now the most important thing was Sarah and the baby she carried. "Let me try first." He said softly._

_Ed nodded and the paramedics backed away to let Sam through. He knelt beside her, and used two fingers to brush her hair out of her face. "Sarah?" He kept his voice soft and even by sheer force of will._

_She turned her head further into Ed's chest, screwing her eyes as tightly shut as they would go. A tear slid down her cheek unchecked._

_"Sarah, it's Sammy. Look at me."_

_She shook her head. "I can't."_

_"I know you're scared. But Ed is going to be with you the entire time." He shot a look at the paramedics, as if daring them to contradict him. He knew it wasn't standard practice for the paramedics to load a civilian in the back with the patient, but he was banking on their humanity._

_"Mitch.."_

_He cut her off, "I will stay right here with Mitch, as long as you need me. You just need to take care of my little niece and let us worry about everything else, okay?"_

_"Don't let them get him, Sammy."_

_Ed shot Sam a confused look, but Sam ignored him. He knew exactly what Sarah was talking about. Three years ago it would have been 'don't let them get me' but now with Mitch in the picture, Sarah feared more that the men who had attacked her, two of whom had never been caught, would get her son than she did that they might get her._

_"I'm a cop, remember?" He rubbed her back soothingly, "No one is getting at Mitch when he's with me."_

_Sarah's eyes opened slowly. She was still afraid, it was evident in every line of her face, but she wasn't panicking any more. "Okay." She said softly. "I'll go."_

_Sam kissed her on the forehead before backing slowly away so the paramedics could load Sarah onto a stretcher._

_It was one of the longest nights of Sam's life. True to his word he stayed at the house as the ambulance transported Sarah and Ed to the hospital. He spent most of the night pacing outside Mitch's bedroom, compulsively checking his cell phone to make sure he hadn't missed a call. Finally at 5 am, the phone buzzed._

_"How's Sarah?"_

_"A mother of two and recovering nicely." The joy in Ed's voice almost overwhelmed the exhaustion. "She went into labour in the ambulance. I'm sorry I didn't call, but I couldn't leave her. She finally fell asleep just now."_

_Sam sagged against the wall, his body limp with relief. "It's ok."_

_"Get some sleep, Sammy. Samantha Elizabeth Henley wants to meet her uncle."_

"Sam?" There was a note of impatience in Andy's voice and Sam wondered how many time's she called him before he head her. It was only with considerable effort he was able to pull his mind to the present and focus on the papers she was waving in front of him. 


	12. Chapter 12

"Do we know who she is yet?" Andy asked, coming to stand beside Luke.

The last four hours had passed in a blur. Luke and Jerry had arrived on the scene with the coroner and a pair of crime scene photographers and suddenly she and Sam had become nothing more than crowd control while the body was photographed, examined and loaded into the coroner's vehicle for transport to the morgue.

When they returned to the station there were a dozen reports to be filled out. She'd only completed about a third when she'd been summoned to Luke's office. The crime scene photos were stuck to a white board that Luke was staring at as if it held the secrets of the universe.

He waved her into the room without looking up. "Nothing yet. That's what you're here for."

Andy took the empty chair beside him, folding her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers together awkwardly. He still hadn't looked at her.

"Her prints didn't come up with anything in the system," he said, standing and reaching for a stack of thick black binders. "We've put a sketch out on the news, but we want to find out who she is before the rumour start circulating. These are from École Gabrielle-Roy and Inglenook High. Go through them, see if you can find her."

Andy took them from him and flipped to the first page. A row of smiling faces looked back at her. "Yearbook photos?" she asked, surprised.

Luke nodded and handed her a manila folder. "Here's the sketch and a few crime scene photos. Let me know if you find her." As soon as she took the envelope from him he turned back to his white board, dismissing her.

"Luke.." Andy began. She hated this. The awkward formality. Three days ago she'd fallen asleep in his arms, and today he was treating her like his office assistant.

He turned to face her, his expression cold, eyes focused on something above her head. "What is it McNally?"

A surge of anger robber her of words for a moment. She shook her head, "You know what, never mind." She hugged the stack of papers to her chest, turned on her heel and walked away. 

Twenty minutes in, Andy found her. Beaming happily at the camera, dressed in hot pink, her hair curled in perfect ringlets framing a heart shaped face.  Her blue eyes accented by black mascara. Natalie Frances. She went to Inglenook High. She was in grade eight. 

Andy double checked the photo against both the artist's sketch and the crime scene photos before pulling the page out and making a copy. She left the photocopy on her desk with the crime scene photos and carried the binder back to Luke's office. 

The door was open and she could see Luke still sitting where she'd left him. "Natalie Frances." She said from the doorway, not waiting for him to notice her.  "Her name is Natalie Frances."

Luke turned, his blue eyes meetings her for the first time in three days. "You found her?" He sounded insultingly surprised.

Andy passed him the sheet she'd pulled out of the binder, pointing to the photo.

He nodded, "That's her. Alright, you and Swarek see if you can find her family. Bring them in for questioning." He erased 'Jane Doe' from the board and replaced it with 'Natalie Frances', dismissing her with his body language. 

She held her ground for several seconds, hoping he would turn back to her, but he didn't. She sighed. Breaking up was never easy. But as much as she would like to avoid Luke and pretend none of this awkwardness existed, they had to work together which meant they had to talk. She snuck a quick glance around the station. Everyone was busy, half the station was working the Moss Park case right now, trying to get something concrete before the six o'clock news announced a young girl had been killed on their watch and they had no suspects. Taking a deep breath for courage, She stepped fully into Luke's office and shut the door behind her.

Luke still didn't turn away from his board.

"Can we talk?" Andy's voice was hesitant.

"You call the school, get and address and go pick them up. It isn't rocket science McNally."  He picked up a blue marker and circled something on a map of Toronto.

A rush of anger made her suddenly bold. "I'm not a moron, Luke."

He went suddenly still. "And I'm not a fool."

There was a heavy resignation in his voice she'd never heard before and she felt suddenly guilty, without really knowing why. "I know that."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I know you slept with Swarek."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Nothing happened with me and Sam Swarek!"

"Does it make you feel better?"

She stared at him, uncomprehending. "What?"

"Lying." His blue eyes were cold and unblinking.

"You know what?" Andy shook her head, "Believe what you want. It's not like we're still a couple." 

"We were never a couple."

"We dated for months. I don't know what you call that, but we were a couple, Luke."  

"We went out on a few dates. We fucked. You were pretty good. But we were not a couple."

His words cut through Andy's anger like a hot knife through an ice cream sandwich. For a moment self doubt took over, old feelings of inadequacy and self doubt she thought she'd buried months ago reared their heads. She didn't want to believe it, but she did. He didn't love her. He never had. She'd just done what she always did. Picked the wrong guy. The guy who wanted her for the easy sex and nothing more. "Fine." She said, dropping her gaze to the floor. "We weren't a couple."

Luke did not respond and for several moments they stood in silence. Andy focused on breathing, allowing the repetitive in, out, in, out of her breath to sooth her mind. They had to work together. Even if he'd used her, they had to find a way to work together. 

Luke broke the silence first. "Are you done?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'm done."

"Good. Now I need you and your boyfriend to go find this girl's family so I can tell her she isn't coming home ever again, think you can handle that?"

For several seconds Andy just stared at him in hurt, angry disbelief. The man standing before her was not Luke Callaghan. He couldn't be. The Luke she knew was a good guy. Sure he was a workaholic, and had trouble leaving the interrogation techniques at the office, but he had never deliberately hurt her. She searched his eyes, looking for something, anything really, from the Luke she cared for. All she found was hatred. Without a word she flung open his office door, stalked out before the tears gathering behind her eyelids had a chance to fall.

Luke stared at his empty doorway for a long time after Andy left. His heart was pounding in his ears, anger making it difficult to think about anything but the fight they'd just had. By morning he would probably regret what he'd said to her, but right now he hoped they'd stung. He _knew_ she was fucking Swarek. _Knew it_ in the way he knew this was not the first time this killer had attacked a girl in Moss Park. Sometimes the circumstantial evidence was enough. 

**o o o**

The women's locker room was blessedly deserted when Andy crashed through the door. One of the angry tears she'd been fighting spilled over her lower lashes, trickling down her cheek. She swiped at it but soon it was joined by five others and she gave up.  Her mind was reeling, looping Luke's cruel words on repeat with the cold hatred in his eyes. 

_"We went out on a few dates. We fucked. You were pretty good. But we were not a couple."_

She allowed herself a moment. A silent minute to cry. And then she straightened out, splashed her face with cold water, and schooled her face into a blank mask.  She flashed a fake smile at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but it would have to do.  

Luke's office door was closed and Andy was able to get to a desk without having to see him. It took only a few minutes on the computer to get the contact information for Natalie's school. She dialled with slightly trembling fingers. 

"Inglenook High, Patricia speaking." The woman's voice was warm and friendly.

Andy took a deep breath. "This is Officer Andy McNally from the Toronto Police Service, I need some information on one of your students, a Natalie Frances."

"Just a moment, Officer."

Andy could hear the muffled sounds of talking and assumed the woman was covering the handset with her hand. She drummed her fingers against the desk impatiently. After several minutes a male voice came on the line.

"Officer, thank you for holding. This is Joseph Garner, I'm the vice principle. Patricia said you need information about Natalie Frances?"

In brief sentences and as little detail as possible Andy explained what she needed. It took the principal a few minutes to locate it but it wasn't before Andy had all the information she needed. She tore the sheet of paper off her notepad and went in search of her partner.

Sam was sitting at his desk, a stack of files open in front of him but he wasn't looking at them. Andy hesitated for a moment before calling his name. "Sam?"  It took two more tries before he heard her. When he did look up it was clear his focus was still on whatever she'd pulled him from. His dark gaze looked through her, landing on some distant spot where things made sense.   
  
"We found her." She said, holding out a photocopy of the yearbook photo, inwardly relieved that he seemed to focused on the  case to pay attention to the telltale signs of crying she was sure were still all over her face. She still vividly remember Sam's concern for her after her first shooting. How even when she had managed to convince herself that she was just tired, he'd known somehow that it ran much deeper. She was relieved that perceptive side of him seemed to be absent today, now was not the time to tell him she'd had a fight with Luke Callaghan. For the sake of the case and her sanity she needed the tentative peace that Sam and Luke had reached to hold.

Sam took the photo from her hands and studied it for a while before speaking."They tell her family yet?"

Andy shook her head, "Luke wants us to bring them in."

"You have an address." He didn't raise his eyes, still looking at the yearbook page as if it held the secret to the universe.

"Two," she held out the page she'd written the addresses on, but he didn't take it. "School said mom and dad have joint custody."

"So we bring them both in." Sam said, rising and shrugging on his jacket. He fished his keys out and tossed them to her. "You're driving."  ****


	13. Chapter 13

Marie and John Frances, Natalie's parents, were divorced and lived several miles apart. According to the school, Natalie moved back and forth, living alternate weeks in both homes and both parents had been known to come to parent teacher conferences together. Since they were taking just one car to pick them both up, Andy hoped this meant the divorce was amicable. It had been a long day already, the last thing they needed was a bickering couple in the back seat.  

Marie lived furthest from the station, so they picked her up first. Andy parked the car along the curb in front of a brick apartment building on Pembroke St and they both stepped out. Andy's palms were sweating.

Sam placed a hand on her arm, stalling her before she could start up the front walk. "You're going to take the lead on this," he said. "Just stay calm. Callaghan wants to tell them about their daughter at the station, so we just need Mrs. Frances to come with us. Tell her it's regarding her daughter, but nothing else. Got it?"

Andy took a deep shaky breath. She'd told a mother that she wouldn't see her sixteen year old daughter alive again once before. It hadn't ended well. Yet somehow that seemed an easier task than not telling this woman her daughter was dead. It seemed cruel. "Can't we tell her?" Andy asked, knowing the answer even as she asked.

Sam shook his head. "Callaghan needs to see how she reacts to the news."

Her eyes narrowed. "He can't think a mother would--"

"He's seen worse." Sam interrupted, his voice firm. "Callaghan's job is to tell if she's hiding anything. Our job is to bring her in so he can talk to her. That's it. That's all we're here for. Can you handle it?"

Andy pulled herself tall. "Yes. I can do it." And she knew she could, at least _they_ could. With Sam standing beside her she knew she could handle anything.

Sam gestured for her to go first up the sidewalk and fell into step a foot behind her. On the top step, Andy hesitated for a moment before hitting searching the front listing for Mrs. Frances' buzzer code. Her stomach was in knots but her finger was steady as she punched it in.

"Hello?" it was a woman's voice. She sounded happy. Andy swallowed hard.

"Marie Frances?"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Officer McNally and Officer Swarek of the Toronto Police Service, we need a minute of your time." Andy kept her voice polite, but not cheerful.

Sam flashed her a reassuring smile.

"Of course." There was a quick buzz and the click of the door unlocking.

Andy pushed it open. The stairs were easy to locate and long before she felt ready, they were standing in front of 318. The wooden door was probably white five years ago when it was first painted but now it was yellowed and the pain was chipped off in places revealing a sea foam green colour underneath. Andy knocked three times on the door and then stepped back.

Marie Frances was younger than Andy had pictured her. She wore a pair of faded, paint stained jeans and an oversized t-shirt also splattered with paint. "What can I help you with?"

"Is this your daughter, Natalie Frances?" Andy held out the yearbook photo.

Marie leaned close so she could look at it. "Yes, that's my Natalie."

Andy took a deep breath, "We need to speak with you about her."

"She hasn't done something stupid has she?" Marie asked, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her tone. "I don't know what has gotten into her these days but ever since she met that boy," she rolled her bright blue eyes, "she's been driving her father and I crazy."

"The detectives will tell you everything at the station," Andy replied. Her heart was pounding so loud she was sure that Sam could hear it.

"I should probably call, John. Technically it's his week, not that he's been around much." She shrugged, "He's a doctor at St. Joseph's and you'd think he was the only one there for all the hours he works. Natalie is bright like her dad. If she would just apply herself she's really going to be something." 

Andy's heart lurched and words failed her.

"If you'll come with us, Ma'am, Detective Callaghan will explain everything at the station." Sam, sensing Andy's distress, took over, smoothly interrupting Marie's nervous chatter.

"Of course," Marie tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "I-I'll just.." She turned away from them for a moment, returning to the door five minutes later, a camel coloured jacket over her paint splattered attire. "I called, John, he said he would meet us at the station. Leaving work early. Miracle of miracles, I suppose no one is dying today." She hit the down button on the elevator, still chattering nervously, "I should thank you, Officers, I think this is the first time he has ever left work because I asked him to. Maybe if you'd been here three years ago we'd still be married"

The elevator doors slid open and then three of them stepped inside, Sam and Andy shoulder to shoulder at the back of the elevator, Marie in front of them. Andy shot Sam an anguished look, he squeezed her arm briefly in silent understanding. Every word out of Marie Frances' mouth was like a dagger. Reminding them that soon she would hear the worst news a parent could ever hear, and that there was nothing they could do to soften the blow.

o o o

Andy ushered Marie and John Frances into an interrogation room, promising them that Detective Callaghan would be with them shortly. Marie had finally run out of chatter halfway to the station. Her ex husband was already at the station when they arrived, so Sam had gone to get Callaghan, leaving Andy to settle them into the interrogation room.

"Can I get you anything, Coffee? Water?" she asked.

John shook his head, but Marie smiled a little, "Coffee would be wonderful. I skipped breakfast."

Andy nodded. "Okay. Do you take anything in it?"

"Lots of milk, no sugar."

 _Same as me_. Andy thought, irrationally this made everything that had happened, that was going to happen in the next few hours, worse. "I'll be right back."

She ran into Luke in the hall as she was returning with the coffee.

"They in here?" He asked, indicating the room with his head.

She nodded. "This is for Marie." She handed him the coffee.

He took it and for a moment their fingers brushed. Andy looked up at him, but his eyes were fixed on a point above her head. "Stick around," he said, "You and Swarek can drive her home when I'm done."

Andy nodded. "Yes sir." 

She walked past him and opened the door to the observation room.

Sam was already in there. He stood with his arms crossed across his chest, back ramrod straight, watching the room. Andy came to stand beside him, so near she could almost feel his heat on her left side, but he did not acknowledge her. She snuck a glance at his profile. There was a sadness and a stress she'd never seen before in his expression.

"Are you okay?" She asked, regretting the question as soon as it left her mouth. It wasn't like her to pry, and certainly not to pry into Sam's life.

He turned his head just the tiniest degree so he could see her out of the corner of his eye. "Are you?"

She shrugged, "It's been a long day. I'd like to go home, take a shower and sleep for a week."

Complete silence followed, a silence that quickly made Andy feel uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than she'd been in Sam's presence before the prisoner transport when they had called a truce and decided to be friends. There was something wrong with Sam. She was sure of it. He'd been unusually quiet all day. She didn't think she'd even seen a real smile since they'd shared coffee that morning.  And then it hit her. He'd been to see Sarah just the day before and now here they were working a rape and murder case in his own backyard, possibly even in the same location Sarah had been attacked all those years earlier. She felt like an idiot for not realizing this sooner.

"You know you can tell me." She said softly, deliberately fixing her gaze straight forward, not wanting to scare him off.

Sam's voice was sharp, "What?"

Andy steeled herself and pressed on, "The thing that you've been worrying about since this morning, you can tell me. That's what friends are for." She couldn't stop her gaze from flitting over to him, he was staring at her with a mixture of annoyance and resignation on his face.

At last he seemed to realize she wasn't going to give up."We had a case like this back in 2004. Sarah saw it.. on the news. And, uh, she freaked out. Ended up in the hospital for a couple weeks."

Andy bit her lip. It was hard to picture the bubby, friendly Sarah Swarek she'd met months earlier panicking over a news report of a rape."You're worried about her."

Half of Sam's mouth quirked in a attempt at a smile, "Yeah, well.. She's the only family I've got."

In the interview room on the other side of the mirrored glass, Luke handed a nervous looking Marie Frances the coffee Andy had prepared for her. Andy turned away from the glass, turning so she could look at Sam instead. She didn't need to see what was going to happen. She noted with relief that Sam had already turned off the audio stream.

"Your parents?" Andy leaned back against the glass. Her own family drama was well known to Sam, alcoholic father, mother who'd pulled a disappearing act when Andy was 14 and never looked back. Somehow in all their time as partners she'd never even learned if his parents were alive or not.

Sam moved so he too was leaning against the glass window, his back to the crying woman on the other side. "Mom died in a car accident when I was 17, drunk driver. Dad died of lung cancer three years later. Just been me and Sarah ever since."

"I'm sorry." It was what you said when someone told you a loved one had died, but today she meant it. Her own teenage and early adult years had been hard without a mom. But Sam had been an orphan since he was twenty years old. An orphan with an older sister who couldn't watch the news, or take a public bus without having a panic attack. She couldn't begin to imagine how hard that must have been.

"It was a long time ago." He said dismissively.

Andy nodded, not really such how to respond to that. Most things got better with time, but in her experience, losing a parent wasn't one of them. The room lapsed into complete silence again, but this time Andy felt no need to break it.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Luke didn't finish with Dr. and Mrs. Frances until a little after six. Even though both of them were off shift, neither Andy or Sam protested when Luke asked them to drive the couple home. Marie Frances was a mess. Her ex husband was in better shape, but Andy could tell by the empty expression on his face that he was only holding it together because Marie couldn't and someone had to stay strong. She had been relieved when he agreed to leave his car at the station and let them drive him home.

The cruiser was silent apart from the occasional hiccoughing sob from Marie. Sam drove and Andy wasn't sure why her presence was even required until they turned onto Pembroke and saw the crowd of reporters milling in front of Marie's apartment building.

There were easily half a dozen different stations represented, each with a news van, camera crew and overly coiffed reporter. Andy shot a worried look at Sam. He looked annoyed, but not panicked. "Light 'em up." He said without taking his eyes off the road.

Andy flipped the cruiser's lights on and watched as every camera on the street swivelled in their direction. Sam slowed to a crawl, but didn't stop until the passenger door of the cruiser was lined up with the walkway to the house. the reporters backed up and let him through but as soon as the car came to a halt they surrounded it, pressing in, flashes and floodlights burning Andy's eyes.

Sam half turned in his seat so he could see Marie. "Mrs. Frances?"

She sniffled, but made eye contact.

"Officer McNally and I are going to escort you to your door. Just keep your head down. They're going to shout a lot of questions at you. You don't need to answer any of them."

She nodded.

Sam turned his attention to John, "Dr. Frances, keep your head down. Do not under any circumstances open the door or roll down the window, understood?"

John cleared his throat. "I'm staying with Marie," he half turned to his ex-wife, "if that's okay."

She nodded again, tightening the grip she had on his hand.

"Fine by me." Sam said. He looked over at Andy, flashing her a smile. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Sam opened his door first, hard and fast, forcing the reporters crowding his side to leap backwards. Andy followed suit, stepping out into the crowd with one hand on her gun and her head held high. She waited until Sam rounded the cruiser before reaching for the back door.

"Take Marie straight in," Sam's voice was all business. "Don't stop for anyone. I'll be right behind you."

Andy nodded and opened the door.  

As soon as the reporters saw Marie they began pushing in, shouting questions. "Mrs. Frances, did they let you see the body?" "Do you know who did this?"

Andy did her best to tune them out as she wrapped one arm around Marie Frances and propelled them towards the door. The first few reporters stepped out of the way, opening up a narrow tunnel, flanked with cameras and women trying to push their microphones into Marie's face. The reporters closer to the front of Marie's apartment building did not move. The held their ground as if blocking the way with their bodies would suddenly inspire the grief stricken Frances couple to flaunt their pain for the nation to feed on.  

"Out of the way, folks!" Sam hollered when it became clear they were not going to move on their own.

A few of the reporters moved, but one man remained, his microphone held out like a shield before him. "Do the police know who did it?" He called out.

Andy tried to manoeuvre past him, but he moved with them, deliberately blocking her path. "Step aside, sir." She said in her most authoritative voice.

He was unfazed. "Mrs. Frances, what was the last thing you said to your daughter? Is it true you had a fight with her?"

Marie tensed. "Ignore him," Andy said softly, attempting to pass the reporter on the other side.

"Natalie's boyfriend is in a gang, go you think he was involved?" the reporter continued to block their way with his body, throwing questions at them.

"Leave us alone," Marie's voice was strained.

"Sir, this is private property," Andy snapped, losing her patience, "get out of the way or I will arrest you for trespassing."

The reporter looked at her for several seconds, scoffed and turned his attention back to Marie Frances. "What are you hiding, Mrs. Frances?"

"Move." Andy, reached for her cuffs with one hand.  

"Did she suffer?" The reporter continued to ignore Andy, focusing all of his energy on trying to make the distraught Mrs. Frances talk.

"That's it." Andy said, pulling her cuffs from her belt, "You are under arrest for trespassing. Do you understand?" She moved quickly, snapping the cuff around one of his wrists before forcibly turning him so she could capture the other. He put up a surprising amount of resistance until she'd slapped the cuffs closed over his other wrist. 

"You can't arrest me!" He cried, trying in vain to pull his wrists free.

"Sir, be quiet." Andy snapped, jerking on the cuffs just enough to indicate he wasn't going anywhere. " You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay." She rattled off his rights quickly, before he could continue his protests, "If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you. Anything you say can be used in court as evidence. Do you understand?" He growled something that could have been 'I understand', she took it as a yes. She forced him off to the side, opening up the sidewalk.

Marie hurried past her, followed by Dr. Frances and Sam. Andy waited long enough to make sure they could get to the building without further assistance before pushing the reporter back towards the cruiser. The other reporters gave her a wide berth, many of them retreating to the outer edge of the property.

She held on to his cuffed wrists with one hand, using the other to open the back door. "Watch your head," she said, helping him into the back seat. She ignored his shouts of protest and shut the door.

It wasn't long before Sam returned. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he tossed her the keys. "Let's get this guy back to the barn."

Andy snatched the keys out of the air, unable to suppress a grin. It was a small thing, but Sam rarely gave up driving privileges without a fight.

The reporter, Lucas Minchin, did not stop protesting the entire ride back to fifteen. Andy did her best to tune him out, focusing on the road and the occasional bit of chatter on the radio.

When they pulled into fifteen, and she was able to step out into the nearly silent garage, she breathed a sigh of relief.  Once they booked him she was going to the Penny for a pint, or three. If today was any indication of that this week was going to hold, she was going to need a vacation at the end of it. Unbidden, the cream coloured card still sitting on her kitchen counter came to mind. It wasn't a vacation exactly, but a night with Sam, Sarah and Ed sounded much better than anything else she could imagine doing on her days off. Besides, it wasn't like she had to worry about what Luke would think any longer.  

"I've got him," Sam said, opening the back door of the cruiser and helping Lucas out with a little more force than necessary.

A few months ago, Andy would have jumped at the chance to drag the reporter into booking herself. Today she was too tired to care. She held the door open and followed them to booking. It didn't take long to get Lucas his one phone call - to the news station's lawyer- and into a holding cell at which point all that was left was paperwork. She left Sam with Lucas and relocated to the bullpen to get started on the report.

Twenty minute later Sam took a seat across from where Andy was just finishing up her arrest report. "Good job out there."

"Really?" she raised both eyebrows, "Because I came this close," she held up two fingers a centimetre apart, "to punching that reporter."

Sam chuckled. "Now that I would have liked to see."

She shook her head. "So you could arrest me for assault?"

"He definitely hit you first."

Andy signed the bottom of the arrest report. "With all those news cameras there?"

"You make a good point." Sam said, plucking the report from her hands and sliding it into a folder, "Good thing you didn't punch him then."

"Good thing." She echoed.

"The lawyers can take it from here," Sam stood. "Come to the Penny, I'll buy you a drink. You've earned it."

Andy smiled, "You're on. There's just one thing I need to do first. Meet you at the Penny?"

"Take your time." Sam watched her walk away before filing away the arrest report and heading to the men's locker room, a satisfied smile on his face. 

A few meters away. Luke threw the notepad he'd been scribbling in down on his desk in disgust. They'd been broken up less than a week and already Andy was throwing herself at Swarek in the middle of the station. Unbelievable.  

o o o

Sarah was covered to her elbows in flour, kneading vigorously at the white bread dough that would become sticky buns for breakfast the morning after Sam's party, when Ed brought her the phone. He had a canary eating grin on his face but when she mouthed 'Who is it?' he merely shook his head and held it so she could trap the handset between her shoulder and ear without getting bread dough all over the grey plastic.

"Hello?" She asked, shooting her husband a playful glare.

"Hi Sarah, it's Andy.. McNally. Sam's partner?"

Sarah did a little victory dance, sending flour everywhere and Ed into a fit of laughter. "Andy! I'm so glad you called." She waved a hand at Ed, signalling he should get out or shut up. "I assume this means you got our invitation?"

"I did, thank you." Andy still sounded nervous and Sarah wondered what was going through the other girl's head.

She recalled that Andy had a boyfriend, the Luke Callaghan she'd gleefully toasted away some five months ago, and wondered if Andy might be reluctant to go to her male partner's family's place without her boyfriend. "Please tell me you're coming. I've gone completely insane with the shopping and cooking. Could probably feed an army for a week."

Andy laughed politely. "I would love to come..." There was an unspoken 'but' at the end of the sentence. "It's just..." she paused and Sarah had to bite her tongue to keep from leaping in and trying to convince Andy that Sam was the man of her dreams and missing his birthday dinner would be a catastrophic error. "Does Sam know you invited me?"

Sarah couldn't stop the ear to ear grin that spread over her face. Andy wasn't worried about some faceless homicide detective boyfriend, she was worried Sam didn't want her there. Sarah couldn't have planned it better than this. "I wanted to surprise him. Believe me, Andy, he will be thrilled to see you."   

"If you say so," Andy still didn't sound sure. "What time should I be there?"

"You know what," Sarah tried to keep her tone casual, as if this idea had just occurred to her and not been on her mind since she'd filled out the invitation, "Ed is dropping the kids off with his parents before dinner. No sense in you wasting the gas. He can pick you around five?"

If Andy suspected anything she didn't let on. "Sounds good, can I bring anything?"

"We have everything here. I'll make up the spare room for you so just your lovely self and maybe a toothbrush." Sarah didn't wait for Andy to respond. "I'm up to my elbows in bread dough here, so I'll let you go. See you Thursday!"


	15. Chapter 15

"She's all yours."

Sam stopped mid motion, his uniform shirt half off, and looked up. "What?"   
  
Luke's blue eyes were cold. "Unless you don't want her anymore. You know, now that she'd single. I never pegged you for the type to enjoy stealing other guy's girlfriends, but I've been wrong before."

Sam raised both eyebrows. "Listen Callaghan, I'm sorry for your lady troubles, but I had nothing to do with it." He stuffed his shirt into his locker.

Luke scoffed, "Yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night Swarek."

The day's frustration hit it's breaking point. Sam turned so he was facing Luke full on and smiled, "Maybe that was your problem, you were sleeping at night when you should have been.. you know."

Luke's face flushed red with anger.

"You do _know_ , right?" Sam knew this was stupid. There was absolutely nothing to be gained from taunting Luke Callaghan, but he couldn't seem to stop. It had been a long day and he was not in the mood for baseless accusations from Andy's boyfriend.. well ex-boyfriend, from the sounds of it. He briefly wondered when that had happened, and why she hadn't told him.

"The only problem Andy McNally and I had with sex was that I wasn't the only guy she was giving it to." Luke snarled.

Sam's eyes narrowed and he resisted the urge to slam Luke's head into the metal lockers.  "You're an idiot."

"I caught on to your little game." Luke snarled, closing the distance between him and Sam in a few short steps.

"I'm sorry, you're a fucking idiot."  Sam was shorter than Luke, but he was pretty sure he could take him in a fight if he had to. "Listen closely, because this is the last time I am going to say this." He spat each word out as clearly as he could, "Nothing. Happened. Between. Me. And. Andy."

"Right," Luke snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Which is why she's receiving invitations to come spend the weekend with you in St. Catharines?"

"No--" Sam stopped mid word. "Wait... what?"

Luke shook his head, laughing mirthlessly. "Nice try. I'm supposed to believe Andy received a hand delivered invitation to your family dinner and you have nothing to do with it?"

Sam blinked. _Sarah? No.. she wouldn't. Would she?_ For a brief moment, Sam felt a wave of guilt, but it passed quickly. Even if Sarah had invited Andy out to St. Catharines, he and Andy were partners and friends. If Luke broke up with her over that, he was an idiot and nothing Sam did or didn't do would change that fact. "No. I don't think you believe it." Sam said, the desire to fight gone as suddenly as it had first appeared.

Luke's satisfied smirk did not last long.

"You have no reason to trust me, but you should have trusted Andy." Sam continued, his voice hard. _She doesn't even know how to lie_ , his brain added, but he didn't give voice to the thought. If Luke couldn't read Andy well enough to know she couldn't hide feelings of guilt no matter how hard she tried, Sam was not going to enlighten him.

Slowly, without a word, Luke turned and stalked out of the dressing room, letting the door slam shut behind him. 

o o o

The Penny was crowded as usual. Off duty cops gathered around tables and lining the bar. It took Sam several scans of the room to find Andy, sitting at the bar alone, halfway through a beer.  He breathed a sigh of relief. He was a good ten minutes late, and wouldn't have blamed her if she'd gone home.

He slid onto the stool next to her, "Hey."

She smiled, "Hey. Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam smiled, "Sorry I'm late, Callaghan had a question." It wasn't quite the truth, but Sam wasn't about to tell Andy he'd engaged in a childish fight with Luke Callaghan in the locker room after shift.  

The bartender arrived and Sam ordered a whiskey, neat, for himself and another beer for Andy.   

"Did they find something?" Andy half turned on her stool so she was facing him.

"Huh?"

"You said Luke had a question..." Andy gave him a puzzled look.

"Oh, uh..." Sam's brain failed to kick in with a lie quickly enough, "Nothing new, just wanted to make sure we got the Frances home ok."

She seemed to accept this, draining the last of her beer. "Does it get easier?"

"Telling someone their kid is dead?"  

She nodded.

"No." Sam didn't see the point in sugar coating it. "It's the worst part of the job."

The bartender arrived with their drinks and Andy drained half her beer in a single swallow. "This wasn't my first death notification."

Sam nodded. He'd heard a little from Noelle about the case she was referring to, but he only knew that Andy had been the one to break the news to the mother and that they'd arrested the woman for trying to kill herself shortly after.

"I didn't think it could get worse than that."

Sam rolled his untouched glass of whiskey between his palms, "Every case is different and some will hit harder than others, but they're all hard."

Andy drained the rest of her beer in a few swallows and signalled the bartender for another.

Sam watched her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know what her drinking habits were, but he knew Tommy was a problem drinker. Not that Sam was one to judge, he'd been dragged home from the Penny by both Jerry and Oliver more times than he cared to count. Usually after a day like today. Still, there was no need for both of them to get plastered. He took a small sip of his whiskey, letting the rich flavour roll over his tongue. This would be his only drink tonight.

"Do you think we'll get him?" Andy asked.

"I hope so."

She studied him for a long time, as if she were trying to come to a decision. "Did they get the guys who attacked Sarah?" As soon as the question left her mouth Andy's eyes widened in horror, "I'm sorry, Sam. You don't have to--"

He held up a hand to stop her. It was a reasonable question, specially today. Andy was the only person he had ever voluntarily told about Sarah's attack, he shouldn't have been surprised that today's case would have brought Sarah to mind considering he'd been thinking of his sister most of the day. "They got one of them."

"And the others?"

"Not enough evidence," Sam was surprised by the bitterness in his own voice. The attack had happened so long ago, and most days he was able to push it out of his mind almost completely, but today it felt fresh. The scars that hadn't quite healed were raw all over again. The injustice of two men walking free after raping his sister because the police doing the investigative work hadn't been thorough enough burned like acid.

Whatever response Andy was about to give was lost when her phone rang. Flashing him an apologetic smile she fished it out of her pocket and moved towards the door where she would be able to hear whoever was on the other end.   She returned a few minutes later, looking flustered.

"Everything alright?"   
  
"Yeah," she didn't sound convincing, "that was my dad, he has a meeting tonight, and his car won't start..." She tucked her long brown hair behind both ears, a gesture Sam knew meant she was nervous.   
  
"My truck's out back."   
  
Andy waved him off,  "No, you don't--"  
  
"Andy, I'll drive. It's fine" he dropped a pair of bills on the bar and stood.   
  
"Are you sure? The meetings are like an hour long."   
  
Sam grinned, "It'll be fun."   
  
"Yeah, sure it will." She said sarcastically.    
  
"We'll grab a coffee, maybe go for a walk, how bad could it be?"

Andy returned his smile. "When you put it like that..."

He gestured for her to go first, and followed her out into the crisp October night. At least, he thought, it was a clear night. He could see a couple of stars trying very hard to fight through the bright glare of the city lights. There were certainly worse ways to spend a night like this than killing time with Andy McNally.   

"Where to?" He asked when they were both belted in.

"Dad is at his apartment."

Sam nodded, "Alright, I remember where that is." He pulled the truck out onto the street. "How is Tommy?"

"He's doing good," Andy's voice was warm.

Sam shot a quick glance at her, profile, "The program's working for him?"

"I think so." She shrugged, "he doesn't like to talk about it, but he's been going to meetings for a couple months now."

"Good."

Sam had been to Tommy McNally's apartment twice before and he found it easily. There was an empty spot along the curb in front of the three story brick apartment building, Sam pulled into it and killed the engine.

Sam had been to Tommy McNally's apartment twice before and he found it easily. There was an empty spot along the curb in front of the three story brick apartment building, Sam pulled into it and killed the engine. 

“I’ll just run up,” Andy said, already half out the door. “Five minutes tops.”

“Yeah, take your time.”  He settled back and watched her jog into the building.

o o o

Andy knocked as she pushed open her father’s door. “Dad?”

“In the kitchen,” he called back.

She shut the door behind her and walked to the kitchen.

Tommy smiled at her, “I was just making a sandwich before the meeting, you want anything.”

“No, I’m fine.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, it was already after eight-thirty and his meeting started at nine. “We should get going,” she said, picking up his jacket and taking a step towards the door.

“We’ve got time.” Tommy slathered a thick layer of mayonnaise across a slice of brown bread before piling on a few slices of ham, some lettuce, cheese and tomato.

“Eat that on the way,” she said, returning to the kitchen so she could begin putting everything back in the fridge, “Sam’s waiting in the truck downstairs.”

“Sam Swarek? What’s he doing here.”

Andy took the sandwich from his hands and handed him a jacket, “We were at the Penny when you called, he offered to drive, and since I don’t have a car, I said yes.” She ripped off a square of paper towel and handed the sandwich and paper towel to her father.

“What happened to that blonde.. uh, Callaghan?”

“We broke up.”

Tommy nodded sagely, his expression saying he’d expected it to happen. Andy rolled her eyes, Tommy had met Luke twice and only been sober for one of those times. His opinion on her and Luke’s relationship was hardly substantial.

“Swarek eh? Well, you could do worse.” 

“I’m not dating Sam Swarek,” Andy propelled her father out the door with one hand and locked it behind them. “We’re just partners.”

"That won't last." Tommy said starting down the stairs, "Pretty girl like you, any single guys with eyes in his head's gotta be interested."  

Andy rolled her eyes. "Aren't fathers supposed to want to protect their daughters from guys who only want them for their looks?" She teased. When she'd been a teenager Tommy had chased off more than one boy before she'd learned to keep him out of that part of her life.

"You can take care of yourself," Tommy opened the front door of the apartment. "You're a McNally and a copper, I don't have to worry about you anymore."

Sam was standing outside, leaning against the side of his truck. He stretched a hand out, "Tommy. How've you been?"

"Good, good."

Sam opened the passenger door. Andy slid into the narrow backseat, allowing her dad to sit in the front. Sam climbed behind the wheel and the truck roared to life. "Where to?"

Tommy gave Sam quick directions to a large United church on Queen Street East.

Andy let her head fall back against the rear window of Sam's truck, only half listening to her father and Sam talk about Tommy's car troubles. Andy was a tomboy in many ways, but interest in the inner workings of a car was not one of them. She knew how to change a flat if she had to, Tommy hadn't wanted his only daughter stranded at the side of the road with a flat, and she could probably manage an oil change, but beyond that she was lost.

Her eyes felt heavy and she closed them, promising herself it would just be for a minute. In seconds she was fast asleep.   


	16. Chapter 16

"Andy," Sam opened the back door of his truck and leaned inside. He'd dropped Tommy McNally off at Metropolitan United Church fifteen minutes earlier, promising to return in an hour, and driven straight to Andy's apartment. She hadn't stirred. He shook her shoulder gently. "Andy, wake up."

"Mmph," She groaned, her eyes slowly fluttering open. "Sam?"

"Yeah," He sat back, giving her a moment to get her bearings.

She looked around, "Where are we?"

"Thought you'd be more comfortable sleeping in your bed," Sam smiled.

Andy flushed. "I was only going to shut my eyes for a second."

"It's alright."

"I feel like an idiot." She said, rubbing her bleary eyes.

Sam shook his head, "Andy, it's fine. It's been a long day. Go to bed, I'll see you tomorrow."

"My dad--"

"Tommy's fine." Sam brushed Andy's bangs back from her face, "I'll pick him up in an hour, take him home."

She bit her lip, uncertainty all over her face. "You don't--"

"Andy..." Sam interrupted. He ran his thumb over her cheek, his fingers still tangled in her bangs. It would be so easy to just lean over and kiss her in that moment. Her dark eyes were slightly unfocused from lack of sleep and despite the dark circles under her eyes he thought she's never looked more beautiful. He leaned towards her, as if he were being pulled by an invisible hand.

"I broke up with Luke." The words she'd been holding in for days spilled out in a rush.

Sam let his hand drop from her face, the spell between them broken. "You okay?"

She nodded.   

 "Good," Sam straightened up, stepping away so she could climb out of the truck.

Andy stumbled a little when she hit the pavement, steadying herself with one hand on Sam's chest.

"Graceful." He teased, dark eyes warm on her face.

She grimaced. "My foot's asleep." She straightened up slowly, making sure her foot would hold her weight before stepping back. "You have some time to kill, want to come up?"

Sam shook his head, "You should get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"Charming." She tried to look angry, but one corner of her mouth twitched with amusement.

"Can't have you falling asleep in the squad." His eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Then you should bring me more coffee. I haven't had any since this morning."

"So those dark circles are from caffeine deprivation?" He traced the dark circle under one eye with his finger tips. He was so close he could see her hair move with each breath he took. His eyes weren't teasing anymore.

"I haven't been sleeping much." Andy admitted, dropping her gaze to studying the ground at their feet.

"Callaghan?" He guessed.

"No," she shook her head slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face, "Yes, I don't know." She took a step back so she could lean back against the bed of his truck. "Things with Luke are complicated."

Sam nodded but remained silent, letting her work out whatever it was she needed to say.

She leaned her head back, gazing up at the black sky. A single star twinkled above them. A dog barked a few yards away but otherwise the street was silent. When Andy spoke her voice was almost a whisper. "I think he hates me now."

"He doesn't hate you."

Her eyes searched his face, "How do you know?"

For a moment Sam considered telling her about his confrontation with Luke, but thought better of it. "He's angry." He said simply, "Just give him some time. It'll get better." 

She nodded. "Thank you, Sam." Andy straightened, and shouldered her bag. "See you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." He watched her until she disappeared from view before closing the passenger doors and getting back behind the wheel.

o o o

"Peck, you and Nash are on desk." Staff Sergeant Best read the assignments off his clip board, occasionally raising his eyes to check that the officers heard and understood their work for the shift,  "Swarek and McNally, you'll be helping Callaghan with the Moss Park case again today."

Andy sighed. She and Sam had spent all day Saturday bringing in witnesses and fielding the hundred of entirely useless tips that began to filter into the station as soon as the case hit the news. By the end of the day Luke had re-interviewed all the bystanders Andy, Chris and Oliver had taken statements from Friday morning and still didn't have a suspect.

Sunday had brought more bogus tips, several of which Luke deemed worth checking out, so Andy and Sam spent that shift chasing empty leads. At the beginning of Sunday's shift she'd thought anything was better than handling the tip line, she'd been wrong. Sifting through a dumpster because some meth head thought he saw a white male dumping clothes and a baseball bat in it twenty minutes after Natalie was killed was infinitely worse.

Working with Luke had been surprisingly normal. Andy remembered how angry she'd been at Luke when Benny died. How she hadn't been able to comprehend how Luke could accept the death of a good kid in exchange for a piece of evidence. That ability to compartmentalize, to completely separate his job from his feelings had seemed abhorrent. This week she was grateful for it. There had been a few awkward moments when she, Luke and Sam were all forced to be in the same room, but she wasn't sure if the awkwardness had been real, or simply her own concerns making her feel awkward.

Even so, she wished today could be spent on any other case.

Best finished off parade as always with the Toronto Police Service motto and the room immediately erupted in motion as everyone moved to their assignments.

Andy caught up with Sam in the bullpen, he handed her a stack of files. "Callaghan wants us to go through these, look for anything that might be a signature, anything that might tie these to the Frances murder."

She nodded, taking the files from him and setting them down at her desk. This felt like grasping at straws, but she supposed that was what they were doing at this point. Unlike all the police shows on TV where the evidence was always enough, this was reality, which meant sometimes a killer got away.

The first two files in the pile were nothing like the Moss Park case. Both had taken place indoors and neither victim reported any non-sexual violence. Andy skimmed the details before tossing them aside.

"Anything?" Sam asked. He was sitting across from her, a similar stack of folders in front of him.

She shook her head. "Not yet."

She flipped open another file. This case was from 2004. A seventeen year old girl beaten and raped in High Park.  Andy straightened slightly in her chair, lifting a copy of the detective's notes out of the folder. beneath the notes was an envelope labelled  with the case number, name and date. Andy set the note's down and opened the envelope.

Inside were a dozen or so crime scene photos. She removed them carefully and flipped through them. When she came to the seventh photo she paused. "Sam, look at this."

The photo was probably the first one shot at the scene. Taken from a distance it encompassed the beat cops who had arrived on the scene first, the body and a small cluster of bystanders. It was the bystanders who had caught Andy's eye. She couldn't be sure, but one of the men looked very familiar.

Sam studied the picture for several seconds before confirming Andy's suspicions. "The man in the blue jacket, he was at our crime scene."

"I took his statement," Andy replied, He's the one who called it in."

Their eyes met. "You need to show this to Callaghan."  Sam said, handing the picture back to her.

Andy gathered the entire file and tucked it under her arm. Luke's office door was open, but she knocked on the frame before entering.

He looked up, "Find something?"

She passed him the photo. "Photo from a case six years ago. The guy in blue was at the scene Friday."

"I interviewed this guy yesterday," Luke said, peering at the photo. "You said this was six years ago?"

Andy nodded. "March, 2004. Seventeen year old killed in High Park. Suspected gang-related, but no one was ever charged." She summarized the key facts she'd picked up scanning the police report.

"Ok," Luke tacked the photo up next to the rest of the crime scene photos. "You and Swarek go through the rest of those case files. See if Mr. Dubray here was at any of those other scenes."

"You want this?" Andy held up the file.

"Thanks," he gestured towards his desk. "Let me know if you find any others."

"You got it." She backed out of the room, but Luke barely noticed. His mind was back on his initial interview with Colin Dubray, now their only lead. He wasn't ready to call him a suspect, there wasn't enough evidence for that.

He flipped to the notes he'd made during the interview. There weren't many. Dubray hadn't seemed suspicious at all. Of all the people he had interviewed in the last two days, he was one Luke had dismissed as nothing more than an unfortunate bystander. He set down his notes with a frustrated sigh and picked up the file Andy had left for him.

March 2004, he'd been working Homicide at twenty-seven division then, but he remembered this case. A jogger reported hearing screams and seeing three men running from the scene. The media had used the case as an example of the Toronto Police Service's inability to stop gang activity in the city and for months afterwards there was more pressure than ever to solve cases quickly and cleanly. Serve, protect, and keep the mayor happy.

The entire case was pretty flimsy. They had DNA evidence, but with no suspects, it was of little use. The jogger who had reported the murder wasn't named anywhere in the report and had somehow managed to avoid a formal interview. According to the statement from the scene the men fleeing the scene were white and in their thirties. No one else reported seeing them and traffic cameras on the roads bordering the park hadn't picked up anything suspicious. After six months of fruitless investigation the case had gone cold.

It was the hardest part of being a detective. Closing a case without solving it. Admitting that there was not enough evidence to ever get a conviction. Knowing that the only chance you had of solving this case was to wait for the perpetrator to strike again.  But it was part of the job.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Seven hours, eighteen case files and two cups of coffee later, Andy had two more files for Luke. In 1999, Colin Dubray was listed as a witness to the murder of nineteen year old Margot Palmer. In his interview he described the perpetrator as white male in their early thirties. Three men were questioned, but no arrests were ever made. In 2001 he called 911 when he heard his neighbour screaming in the middle of the night, she was found in her bathtub, badly beaten and later died in hospital. Again, Dubray claimed to have seen a white male fleeing the scene, but no arrest was ever made.

"His story is always the same," Andy said, stacking the cases on the corner of her desk. "How did no one catch on to that?"

Sam looked up, "White male in his thirties fleeing a crime scene? It's not the kind of story that stands out."  He handed her another folder, "Here's another one. 2004, Dubray was trying to resuscitate her when the ambulance arrived." 

"Seriously?" She scanned the report. "Says here another witness said she saw Dubray strike the woman, but they never even interviewed him."

 "He was doing CPR, probably thought the witness just got confused." Sam shrugged, "It's happened before."

Andy shook her head. She could believe it. A cop arresting the man who was trying to resuscitate the victim would make news headlines across the country. A mountain of bad press the department didn't need. But the idea that a rapist and murderer had walked free because of it was hard to swallow.

"We've only got a few left here," Sam said, indicating the dwindling pile of unsolved rapes. "Why don't you take those to Callaghan?"

She nodded, happy for an excuse to stretch her legs.   ****

Luke wasn't in his office. She found him in Interview 3, re-watching his initial interview with Dubray. "Three more," she said, holding up the folders.

Luke waved her in. "Take a look at this guy. "

Andy came to stand behind him. On the screen Dubray was describing how he'd found the body. "He looks like he's going to be sick." Andy said.

"He looks excited." Luke corrected. He tapped the screen. "Watch his hands." He rewound the recording back and hit play.

"I go for a run most mornings, gotta keep moving or you're dead, right?" Dubray talked with his hands, Andy noticed. Not in a nervous way, but with enthusiasm; as if words weren't enough to convey the full extent of his thoughts.

"Do you always run through Moss Park?" Luke's voice sounded bored.

"Not every day, but once a week at least. It's close."

"Had you ever seen this girl in the park before Friday?" Luke placed a photo on the table. Andy recognized it as a large colour version of the yearbook photo she'd used to identify Natalie.

Dubray picked it up and studied it. "Hard to say, lots of teenagers hang out on the baseball field and smoke dope on the weekends. She might have been one of them." He pushed the photo back towards Luke.  "I can't say I pay much attention to 'em when I'm running."

"Can you take me through what happened Friday?"

From the bit of Luke's notepad Andy could see in the bottom corner of the screen it looked like he was doodling in circles rather than taking notes. She shot a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at the  screen, his chin propped on one hand, a pen in the other. Every few seconds he would make a notation on the paper in front of him.

"Got up at six as usual. It was a nice morning. Decided to go for a run." He  took a sip of coffee from the styrofoam cup in front of him, "I guess it was seven-thirty or so when I got to the park. It's about three k from my place, so I was all warmed up by them. The baseball field is a good place to stretch." As if to illustrate his point he extended both arms above his head, fingers linked, stretching out his back. "I saw that girl from the other side of the field. Honestly man, I thought she was a homeless person. Sometimes the meth heads'll sleep in the park. I didn't really think anything of it until I got closer and realized she wasn't breathing."

"Is that when you called 911?"

Dubray nodded vigorously. "Always carry a phone when I run. Dangerous world out there." He scratched his left shoulder with his right hand before taking another swig of coffee. "I called and checked her pulse like they said, but I knew she was dead."

"How?

"Come on man, you saw her." He gestured to the pile of crime scene photos beside Luke. "She was all blue. I've seen enough CSI to know what that means."

Luke's head bobbed. "Did you see anyone else in the park before you found the body?"

Dubray scratched the back of his neck, seemingly deep in thought. "I passed a couple guys running just down the street, and there were some dog walkers. Y'know all the people who your people talked to already."

"Alright," Luke stood and for a moment his back filled the whole screen, "If you think of anything else, give me a call."

"Sure thing Detective." Dubray stood and shook Luke's hand.

Luke paused the tape, freezing the final image of Dubray on the monitor, and placed the files she'd brought on top of a small pile on the corner of the table, "It's late, but let's bring him back in first thing tomorrow, see what he has to say."

"Do we have enough to arrest him?" Andy asked, surprised.

Luke laughed, "Not even close, but bring him in to answer a few questions. Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll give us something."

"What makes you think he'll come in again?"

Luke smiled, "He won't be able to say no. It's part of the fantasy." He rewound a little ways, "Watch here. He's obsessed with Law enforcement," He let it play for a moment before pausing the tape. "See how he keeps looking right at the camera? It's like he's putting on a show and he wants to make sure we know it."

"Shouldn't we bring him in tonight?"

Luke shook his head, "If we pick him up this late he's going to think something's up."

"Yeah but what if he hurts someone?"

"He won't." Luke said with confidence, "For a guy like Dubray, the investigation is part of the fantasy. He won't hunt for a new victim for weeks or months."

Andy shrugged. She didn't like it, but Luke was the expert as well as her superior, which meant she didn't have to like it, she just had to do it. 

"Oh, and McNally," Luke called after her as she turned to leave, "take Swarek with you tomorrow. If he's our guy he's dangerous."For the first time since they'd broken up, Luke's tone was warm and Andy thought they just might be able to get past all the awkwardness and hostility.

o o o

"Aaah!" Andy dropped to the couch beside her best friend. It was Monday night and she'd spent the last half hour filling Traci in on everything from her breakup with Luke to the birthday invitation to drinks at the Penny with Sam to their almost kiss. "Trace I don't know what to do!"

"Don't give me that!" Traci stood, placing her mostly full wine glass on the table and walked to the kitchen, "Let me see," she pulled open the freezer, "aha! I knew it." She removed the jar or ice with the Sam Swarek post-it suspended in the middle of it and held it out towards Andy, "You're still holding on to this."

"So?"

"So, you don't put a man on ice because you're not interested. And I know you've cleaned this freezer out at least once in the last four months because there's no way you actually ate that bag of frozen lima beans."

Andy sighed, "Okay, I'm interested. What do I do?"

Traci placed the jar on the table in front of Andy, and picked up her wine again, "His sister invited you to his birthday whatever, right?"

"Dinner, yeah."

"So you go, you drink a little too much wine, and you jump his bones the second you're alone."

"Trace!" Andy flushed crimson.

Traci grinned, "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it."

"Of course I've thought about it." There were days when Andy wished Traci didn't know her quite this well, "But what if he's not interested?"

Traci gave her a hard look. "Andy, he practically stalks you with his eyes. Believe me, he's interested."

"I don't know." Andy sank back into the couch,

"He's not your training officer anymore, and you're both single. So the only real question is whether you want to."

Andy contemplated that for a moment. It was true. When she'd started dating Luke, Sam had been off limits. Then when she'd stopped being his rookie, she'd been determined to make things work with Luke. Now Luke was gone, and if Traci was right - which, Andy had learned, she usually was with things like this - Sam was still interested.

 _Sam._ His face came easily to mind, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the dimples when he really smiled, the ridiculous jokes he'd memorized as a nine year old because he'd wanted to make his sister laugh, the way he always had her back, even when she was doing something stupid. She'd chosen Luke because he was safe and that relationship had ended as badly as any other she'd been in. Sam wasn't safe. He could break her heart. But she trusted him with her life.

Playing it safe had gotten her nowhere, it was time to take what she wanted, consequences be damned. "I want to."

"Alright," Traci bounced to her feet again, and pulled open Andy's closet. "First off, we need to buy you some sexier clothes. Seriously Andy, do you even own a dress?".

"There's one in there somewhere," Andy said, rising to join her.  After a few seconds of rummaging she found it, crumpled at the bottom of the closet. She picked it up and then paused. "Do I tell him?"

"Tell Swarek about the birthday surprise?" She shook her head emphatically, reaching to pluck the dress from Andy's hands, "No."

Andy squirmed inwardly, she hated lying almost as much as she sucked at it. "So what, I'm supposed to lie?"

"You're not lying, you're just not telling him"

Andy recalled Sam saying very much the same thing months earlier when her father was the obvious suspect in Luke's murder investigation. That particular attempt at hiding the truth had not gone well. "I have to tell him." 

Traci raised both eyebrows. "Okay." She hung the purple dress up on an empty hanger, "What are you going to say?"

"Ugh," Andy groaned, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know. Maybe I should call and cancel."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard." Traci said, turning away from the closet and grasping Andy by both shoulders. "Listen to me. You and Sam Swarek  have been doing this little dance for months, the time has come to make cookies or get the hell out of the kitchen."

Andy couldn't help laughing. "Alright, alright. I will go."

"And?"

"And I won't tell Sam..." She hesitated. Keeping secrets was not her strength, "Unless he asks," she added.

Traci rolled her eyes. "Now we just need to go buy you something hot to wear."

"What's wrong with that?" Andy asked pointing to the purple dress she'd worn on several dates with Luke. It was comfortable and she'd always thought she looked pretty hot.

 "It looks like it cost ten dollars." Traci said bluntly.

"It was.."Andy paused, wracking her brain to try and remember when she'd even bought the dress. She was not the dress up type, and now that she thought about it, she may have bought that dress in high school. "Yeah. You're right. Wednesday, before shift."

"I can't Wednesday," Traci said, apologetically, "I have Leo until four. Why don't you take Gail?"

"Gail?"

Traci shrugged, "Say what you want about her, Frosty cleans up good. And you, girl, need some help in that department."

 "Thanks a lot." Andy chuckled.

"I'm just saying," Traci held up both hands in surrender.

"No, you're right." Andy admitted. "I'll ask."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first scene of this chapter may be disturbing to some readers. It is in italics so it should be fairly easy to skip over.

**Chapter 18**

_"So far, police have no suspects in the murder of thirteen year old Natalie Frances Friday in moss Park.."_

_I lean over and twist up the volume. 680 always has the best reports. Paul Cook's familiar voice recite the facts in a grim tone. When I close my eyes I can picture it all._

_Green grass, pale skin, red blood. Police everywhere, asking questions, but finding out nothing. I can't stop my hand from dipping inside my sweat pants. I'm half hard already and it doesn't take long before I'm up._

_"... asking anyone with details to call the hotline."_

_Slow strokes. Draw it out. Right there._

_The voice on the radio changes. "There's an a accident westbound on Kingsway blocking two lanes..." It's a woman and she has completely ruined the mood._

_Already I can feel my erection deflating as her perky voice drills into my head. It's that blond bitch Marlene Wolf._

_For a moment I forget about Natalie. I wonder if Marlene Wolf jogs and I imagine how good her screams would feel. But then I remember she's had children and I know her cunt will be stretched out and desensitized. Not like Natalie._

_She's still yapping away, as if anyone cares. I turn the radio off.  They've moved on for now, but I know the noon news update will open with Natalie again._

_Natalie._

_I learned her name Friday afternoon. Paul Cook was the first to say it, but soon it was everywhere. No pictures, which was disappointing, but the images in my mind will last a long time._

_She screamed so deliciously. High pitched panic. I wish I had a recording, but keepsakes are risky._

_Neil doesn't agree. But he's a sick bastard. He keeps their clothes. Smells their panties while he jacks off. He's weak and stupid. One day that is going to get him caught._

_Not me. I don't leave anything behind and I don't take anything with me. Why would I? When the screams fade and the police give up and everyone moves on, there's always another one. Another blonde bitch just gagging for it._

_In the silence of my basement I can hear Natalie's screams. I can see her barely formed breasts jiggling as she tries to pull away. I can taste her scent in the air. My hand wanders south, stroking by cock until it is hard again._

_Scream for me, Natalie. You know you want it as much as I do._

o o o

Luke had finally returned to his apartment a little after midnight. Exhausted, he'd fallen into bed for four hours before getting up,  showering and returned to the precinct. He'd reviewed the fifteen minute interview with Dubray so many times he had it memorized, and read through all of the documents from the other cases they suspected Dubray was involved in. By eleven pm his eyes had been shutting on their own, but the short sleep and shower had helped bring back his focus and by the time six o'clock rolled around he knew what he wanted to do.

Of the four cases they suspected Dubray to be involved in, three had DNA evidence. It would take a couple of days to process the results, but he was confident they would match. All he needed was a sample from Dubray to confirm, something he was hoping to gain from today's interview. If they could match Dubray's DNA to that found at the scenes, they would have enough to hold him and to obtain search warrants for any known residences or workplaces. If they were lucky, Dubray kept souvenirs. DNA would probably be enough to prosecute, but he wasn't happy with probably on this one. 

He wouldn't be completely happy until he had a confession on tape. But if he was going to get one he would need to tread very carefully. Until they had solid evidence linking Dubray to at least one of the murders, they couldn't hold him against his will. He knew it had been done before. Ontario Provincial Police Detective Sergeant Jim Smyth had made a name for himself eliciting a confession from Colonel Russell Williams some eight months earlier, but most interviews did not go that well.

Still, a little hope never hurt anyone.

Dubray would agree to come in, Luke would bet money on it, and when he did Luke would be ready for him. He already knew everything there was to know about the murders, or at least everything the police investigating had been able to find, now he needed to understand Dubray. He didn't have enough for a warrant, but that didn't stop him from pulling any and all public records he could find, or from talking to past employers and associates. There were no laws against asking questions. 

Until three weeks earlier, Dubray had been working for Marberg, providing technical support for a number of their clients. His employment record was littered with similar jobs, never for more than twenty months at a time. In fact, since getting his Social Security Number at age sixteen, Colin Dubray had worked forty three different jobs. The shortest was a three week stint at the National Collections Organization, the longest was a twenty months at McDonalds when he was eighteen.

Two hours on the phone and Luke learned that Dubray had been a good employee for the most part. He'd been fired from his last job for using his work station computer to watch porn, but the two employers before Marberg reported that Dubray was a model employee, always on time and rarely off sick, until the day he walked in with a letter of resignation.  Though Dubray's stated reasons for leaving each job were different, Luke was able to match each of the four murders with a period of unemployment lasting at least three weeks. It wasn't proof of anything, but it was a pattern. And a pattern was a good place to start.

There was one other pattern that was emerging as Luke took in all of the information they had available about Dubray. Dubray hated women. It wasn't an overt hatred. He wasn't going to be walking down the street calling them cunts or spitting in their faces, but in a subtle way it was embedded in everything the man did. even more than that it was obvious from what Dubray didn't do.

Nowhere in any of the records they'd gathered of Dubray was there a single female name. Dubray's mother had died in childbirth and he'd lived with his single father until he was fourteen. There were no public records to indicate Dubray had ever been in a serious relationship or lived with a female. Dubray's father had remarried three months after his son moved out. Both Mr. Dubray and his second wife were now dead.

None of the employers Luke talked to remembered any mention of women. Two of Dubray's past employers said that Dubray had been extremely shy around women. Sometimes he had even come off as creepy to some of the female employees because he stared at them constantly but avoided eye contact and never spoke directly to them. One manager said he'd changed Dubray to their graveyard shift specifically because there were no women working graveyards and that Dubray's productivity had doubled, but three days after the change Dubray had handed in his resignation.

Luke caught sight of Sam Swarek out of the corner of his eye as the officer passed by his doorway. He stood and leaned out of his office. "Swarek, you got a minute?"

"Uh," Sam looked around and shrugged, "Yeah." He stepped into the office, not bothering to shut the door behind him. 

"You and McNally are going to pick up Dubray this morning?"

"Right after parade." Sam confirmed.

"Good," Luke shuffled a few papers, distractedly before looking up at Sam. "Listen, let McNally take the lead today."

Sam gave him an incredulous look. "You're serious?"

Luke nodded. "He won't see her as a threat."

"He's raped and killed at least four." Sam protested.

It was the kind of thing Luke would have said two weeks earlier had another detective wanted to send Andy to confront a suspected killer. Luke swallowed his annoyance. He and Andy were through, if Swarek wants to play the protector, that was his problem. Luke had a murderer to put behind bars. "Which tells us he has no respect for women."

Sam leaned against the doorframe. "What makes you think he'll listen to McNally?"

"We don't need him to respect her," Luke handed Sam a still shot from the interview camera. In the photo, Dubray stared at the camera, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly as if he were trying to suppress a smile. "He wants us to watch him. He feels in control."

"And if we send a woman to pick him up he'll assume we don't suspect him." Sam nodded. It wasn't a perfect strategy, but it was definitely worth a shot.

"Exactly."

Sam handed the photo back, "Do you want her to go in solo?"

Luke shook his head. "No. He's already seen you two working together at the crime scene and when he came in for his initial interview. He won't think anything of it, and I'd prefer it if McNally wasn't alone with him. Just stand back and let her do the talking."

 o o o

"You should not have opened that third bottle of wine last night," Traci said, massaging her temples.

Andy drained her coffee, the third since she'd woken up with a splitting headache two hours earlier. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Traci smiled at that. After Andy had agreed to sex up a little for Swarek, the conversation had turned to other things. Like how Traci and Dex were on the outs again, and how fine Detective Jerry Barber looked most days. But mostly there had been wine. Three bottles between the two of them. Which explained the sharp shooting pain in her head that persisted even after a pair of aspirin and a McDonald's breakfast sandwich. At least the greasy breakfast had helped with the acid stomach.

Sam approached them, a cup of coffee in each hand. "Ready to roll, McNally?"

"Please say one of those is for me," Andy said, already reaching for the steaming cup.

"Black, lots of sugar, a little on the cold side, right?"

She took the cup he handed her. "You're evil." She was pretty sure he was teasing her, but at this point she probably would have eaten coffee grounds if someone told her that would help clear the lingering fog in her brain.  A large gulp told her she'd been right. Nice and hot and perfectly milky. 

Traci watched the exchange with a smile on her face. She'd already known Sam Swarek was at least halfway in love with her best friend, but before today it had only been visible if you were looking for it. This morning he was broadcasting his intentions for the world to see. She turned to her desk, giving them a little privacy.

"Good night?" Sam asked, noting the telltale pinched look of a little too much alcohol the night before.

Andy took another large swallow of coffee. "What I remember of it."

He raised both eyebrows, "Oh yeah?"  An unwelcome image of Andy and Luke smiling at each other across a table at the Penny flashed before his eyes. The Blonde detective had been almost friendly this morning and Sam couldn't shake the feeling that Andy had something to do with that.

"Me, Traci, a couple bottles of wine..."  she let the sentence dangle, stepping past him.

 _So, not Luke._ Relief flooded through his chest. Maybe, just maybe, this time she and Luke were truly done this time. "Sounds fun." He matched step with Andy, headed for the parking lot.

He stopped at the car, keys in hand. "You ready for this?"

His tone was suddenly serious and Andy turned to look at him. Of the many things they had done as partners, picking up a suspect for questioning was on the tamer end of the spectrum. She studied his face for a moment, confused by the real concern she saw in his eyes. "Yeah. "

He nodded but he did not look sure. "This guy, Dubray  is going to try to get in your head." He drilled her with serious brown eyes. "He won't be able to help himself." He rolled his lips together, the way he always did when he was thinking through his words before he spoke, "If he thinks we're on to him, he could disappear before we ever get a warrant."

Andy took a deep breath, she was getting an idea where this was going and she didn't like it.

"You gotta let him think he's in control. Whatever he says or does, you can't let him know we suspect him."

"I get it." She said, nodding.

His lips curled into a half smile, "If he touches you, I'll arrest him for assault."

That made her smile. She was pretty sure Dubray was smart enough not to lay a hand on her, but it was a welcome reminder that Sam had her back, no matter what.

 Sam turned the key in the lock, opening the driver's side door. "Oh, one more thing."

Andy raised her eyebrows.

"You're doing the talking."

"But--" She stared at him over the roof of the cruiser, at a loss for words. They were reasonably certain Dubray was a violent sex offender, she'd automatically assumed that would mean a backseat role for her in the investigation. 

"Callaghan's idea." Sam said as if that explained everything.

It didn't, but Andy really did not want to get into a discussion about Luke Callaghan, so she bit her tongue. Luke wouldn't risk the investigation on her if he didn't think she was ready. Right?

A week ago she would have been absolutely certain that Luke would never compromise an investigation  by sending in the wrong person, but now she wasn't sure. He'd been civil, even nice, yesterday, but they were still on extremely shaky ground.

She took a deep breath, and forced her self-doubt down. She'd spent more than enough time wondering if she could really do this job. Today she was just going to do it. "If I'm supposed to be in charge, shouldn't I be driving?"

Sam's eyes twinkled and she knew it had been the right thing to say. "Fine by me." He closed the driver's door and tossed the keys to her.

Andy adjusted the seat and mirrors, fastened her belt and she pulled the cruiser out into the street. Despite her decision to be brave, there was a cold fist of anxiety squeezing her stomach. Suddenly, picking up a suspect for questioning didn't feel like a tame assignment at all.

She knew Sam would be by her side, but she couldn't stop her brain from running in circles around the many ways she could royally screw up this investigation. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

20B Pape Avenue was exactly the type of home Andy would have pictured a man like Dubray living in. It wasn't run down, exactly, but there were definite signs of neglect everywhere. The tiny patch of lawn along the street was half worn down to dirt and more weeds than grass. The white railing across the worn wooden porch could use a new coat of paint, and roof tiles were three different colours, as if repairs had been done piecemeal as needed. Compared to the next building down with its fresh cream paint, crisp black trim and perfectly manicured edges, 20B was an eyesore.

The stairs creaked under their feet. Andy shot a quick glance at Sam who nodded as if to say 'you can do this.' Taking a deep breath she knocked three times on the door.

She saw him before she could hear him. A yellow and black outline in the textured glass beside the door, growing larger and more clear with every step. The floor creaked under his feet and then he was at the door, pulling it open. She swallowed a lump of fear and forced her face into what she hoped was a neutral expression.

Dubray was shorter than she remembered. Somehow he'd grown in her mind to a six foot giant, rather than the 5' 9", slightly scrawny man who opened the door. The baggy black sweatpants and bright yellow t-shirt he wore did nothing for his pale complexion or receding, mousey-brown hair. His watery eyes scanned Andy's body from head to toe and back again. "What can I do for you, officers?"

"Colin Dubray?" Her voice was surprisingly steady considering the trembling in her fingers.

Dubray's eyes fixed his eyes on Sam, even though it was Andy who spoke. "Yes."

"I'm officer McNally, this is officer Swarek." Andy shot a look at Sam as she said his name, drawing strength from the almost-bored look on his face. If Sam, who thought life and death situations were fun, was practically twiddling his thumbs, she knew she wasn't in any danger.  

"Is this about that poor girl?" Dubray jumped in before Andy had a chance to explain why they were there. He rubbed at his left forearm.  "I already told the detective everything I know"

Andy forced herself to smile politely. "It is. Some new evidence has come up," it wasn't quite a lie, they had recently discovered Dubray's probable involvement, "we're hoping you might be able to help shed some light."

For a breathless moment they waited as Dubray studied Sam and then Andy and shrugged. "I don't know how much help I'll be," he said, reaching behind him to grab a worn brown coat, "but I'll do my best."

Andy stepped aside so Dubray could lock up. The porch was tiny and she could feel Sam's breath against the back of her neck.  It sent shivers down her spine.  

Dubray straightened and pocketed his keys. Sam placed one hand on the small of Andy's back, silently signalling her to lead the way off the porch. 

Walking down the stairs with Dubray right behind her sent an entirely different kind of shivers up Andy's spine. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her skin crawl. she opened the back door of the cruiser for him, standing off to the side to let him through. One of his hands brushed against her as he slid past her. She couldn't be sure it was deliberate, but she felt a wave of nausea.

She wondered how much trouble she would get into if she deliberately crashed the cruiser on the way back to the station. On one hand, deliberately crashing a cruiser was a very good way to get fired. On the other, they needed this creep's DNA. She shut the door behind Dubray and turned to walk around the car to the driver's door.

Sam's hand at her elbow stopped her for a moment. She met his eyes and instantly felt her anger fade. His eyes narrowed in an unspoken, 'you okay?' She nodded and tried to smile, but the attempt fell flat. He squeezed her arm once before letting go and opening the passenger door.

The drive back to fifteen was silent. Dubray did not seem inclined to chatter and Andy certainly didn't want to engage him. He hadn't done anything to threaten her, and other than his hand grazing her backside as he got into the car, he'd been the model witness. Still he made her skin crawl. She couldn't look at his pale, empty eyes without seeing the crime scene. Natalie Frances' beaten body, or Marie Frances' tear streaked face. This man had done that. She didn't need the DNA results to tell her that. She was absolutely certain. So as far as Andy was concerned, the sooner he was in custody and she never had to see him again, the better.   

At the station, Andy opened the door for him and led the way past booking to the interrogation rooms. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time and only the fact that Sam was following a step behind Dubray kept her from fingering the pepper spray at her belt. Interview one was empty and she gestured for Dubray to take a seat. "Detective Callaghan will be with you in a minute." She paused at the doorway, "Can I get you a coffee or water while you wait?"

Dubray fixed his gaze somewhere around her belly button. "Coffee, thank you. No milk, three sugar."

 "I'll be right back." She let the door fall closed behind her, and headed for the coffee maker. Sam had already disappeared and she assumed it was to tell Luke that they were back with Dubray.  

She was surprised to see Dubray still alone in the interrogation room when she returned a few minutes later with his coffee. She looked up and down the hall before opening the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of either Sam or Luke. The idea of being alone with Dubray, even in the middle of the station was enough to set off the butterflies in her stomach again.  

Dubray turned when she pushed open the interview room door.  His eyes scanned her quickly before focusing in on the coffee cut she held. She reached to place it on the table, but he brought his hand up to take it from her, locking his fingers with hers for just a few seconds too long. Andy pulled her hand away, fighting the urge to rub his touch off on her pants.

She watched as he set the coffee in front of him and then raised his hand, the same one that had just touched hers, to his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Andy backed away quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her. Her hands were shaking.

The hallway was empty and Andy leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes and focusing on deep even breaths and stilling the trembling in her hands. Logically, she knew Dubray couldn't harm her, not here. But that didn't stop her heart from hammering against her ribs.

"You okay, McNally?" Sam's voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long tunnel. His strong hands grasped her gently by the shoulders. "Andy, what is it?"

She shook her head and tried to tell him it was nothing, she was fine, but the words wouldn't come.

"Come here," He took her elbow in one hand and propelled her into the observation room.

Andy dropped her gaze to the floor, she didn't want to see Dubray. She sank into the only chair in the room, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. Her heart rate was slowly returning to normal, but her palms were clammy and she knew they would start to shake again if she unclenched them long enough.

Sam leaned down so he was on eye level. "Andy, talk to me. What did he do?"

She swallowed, "N-nothing." Her voice shook and she cursed herself for being so terrible at concealing her feelings.

With gentle fingers, Sam grasped her chin and tilted her face so she was looking at him. "Listen to me, Andy. You're safe. He can't touch you here."

"I know. He just..." she searched for words to describe what Dubray had actually done, "He freaked me out. Earlier, he bumped up against me when he was getting in the car, then when I brought him coffee he touched my hand and..." She sighed, "It's stupid."

Sam cupped her face with both hands and for an insane second she thought he was going to kiss her. Her heart contracted and she forgot to breathe for several seconds. HIs hands were warm against her cheeks, and his dark eyes seemed to see right through her.

"It's not stupid." He said, smiling a little. "Did he do anything else? Anything at all?"

A clear picture of Dubray raising his hand to his face and inhaling her scent flashed before Andy's eyes. But there was no way she was sharing that with Sam. She shook her head, "Just that."

He let go of her face and straightened up. "You okay?"

She unclenched her hands, they still shook a little, but as long as no one asked her to draw a straight line or disarm a bomb she doubted they would notice. "I'm fine." She almost believed it, but still, she did not turn towards the glass until she heard Luke's familiar voice.

"Mr. Dubray, thank you for waiting." Luke set a white folder and a cup of coffee down on the table before settling into the chair across from Dubray.

"Of course," Dubray smiled politely.

"Do you need anything before we get started? Coffee?"

Dubray lifted the coffee Andy had brought him, still untouched. "Officer... McNally brought me one already."

Luke nodded, opening the folder in front of him and shuffling the papers inside distractedly. "Good, good." He took a sip of his own coffee and flipped through several more pages before finally looking at Dubray.

On the other side of the glass Andy rose and came to stand next to Sam in front of the glass. "What is he doing?"

"Putting him at ease," Sam said, his voice amused. "Dubray thinks he's smarter than all of us, Callaghan's just feeding the illusion."

Andy crossed her arms, "We have him at all three scenes, can't we just come at him with that?"

"We have nothing to hold him on," Sam explained, "he can walk out any time."

"Then why bring him in at all?"

Sam could hear the frustration in her voice, he didn't blame her. It was times like these it was tempting to throw procedure out the window. But it was cases like this one where they had to play by every rule. If they coerced a confession Dubray, with the help of a decent lawyer, could walk. "Callaghan's good. We might get something."

"And if we don't?"

"Well," Sam gestured towards Dubray who was taking a sip of the coffee Andy had brought him, "we've got his DNA. That's something." 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"He's not going to break." Sam said, almost to himself. Callaghan had been in the interview room with Dubray for nearly an hour and so far they had learned nothing they didn't know already. Dubray's story was consistent. Too consistent. He had an explanation for his presence at each crime scene. An explanation he was ready to give almost before Callaghan asked. Sam was certain Dubray had rehearsed these answers. As if he'd known they would link him to the other crimes.

Callaghan was good. Maybe one of the best Sam had ever seen in the interrogation room, but he was getting nowhere.  

At least they had Dubray's DNA. Twenty minutes into the interview, Luke had taken both his own coffee cup and Dubray's to "refill". Dubray's cup was now sealed in an evidence bag, ready to go to the lab in the morning for testing. They would have the results within a week. Still, they had all hoped to get more than just a stolen sample of Dubray's saliva.  

If the DNA matched it would be enough to get a search warrant, but DNA obtained without consent was shaky ground at best in a court room. There were few jury members who accepted that one man's garbage was another's evidence, no matter what the law had to say about it. If they wanted a conviction they would need a lot more.

Andy looked up from the paperwork she was filling out. On the other side of the glass Luke looked calm. His shoulders were relaxed and his voice as he posed questions was almost lazy. This was a Luke she'd only seen once before. Completely in his element, confident he would get his way. She had a hard time believing Dubray would outlast him. 

"Do you watch much TV, Mr. Dubray?" Luke kept his tone casual.

Dubray shrugged, "Here and there." His brow furrowed in confusion.

Luke smiled easily, keeping his voice friendly. "I like CSI myself."

"Good show," Dubray agreed slowly, still looking like he was trying to figure out where this line of questioning was headed.  

"I'm going to be perfectly straight with you, Mr. Dubray." Luke leaned forward and lowered his voice as if he were trying not to be picked up by the cameras, "Crimes like these," he gestured to the crime scene photos spread over the desk between them, "we usually end up with a dozen different sets of finger prints, footprints and DNA samples."

Dubray nodded along with the words.

"I mean someone like yourself, who tries to help the victim, or even check their pulse, leaves behind shoe prints and finger prints. Sometimes you even leave a hair behind." Luke took a long drink of coffee, letting his words hang between them for a moment. "You're a smart guy, so I'm sure you can see how hard that makes my job."

Dubray didn't respond, but his eyes were fixed on Luke's face and he wasn't blinking.

"We need to separate out all those prints and fibres that belong to our own people and anyone else who might have come into contact with the crime scene before we got there. Right now I've got a couple techs working round the clock trying to figure out if any of the samples we collected are significant." He shook his head, "Makes me glad I'm a detective not a lab tech, let me tell you."

There was a half hearted chuckle from Dubray.

"Your presence at all of these events did raise some red flags." Luke watched Dubray's reaction carefully.

Dubray remained completely relaxed, "I have truly terrible luck. Must've been Jack the ripper in another lifetime, eh?" He laughed.

Luke did not. "Right now you're the only person we can place at all four scenes, Mr. Dubray."

"Really?" Dubray sounded genuinely surprised.

"We'd obviously like to move our investigation along." Luke took another drink of coffee, forcing his mind to slow down as he came to the crucial question. "To do that we need to eliminate you as a suspect. Would you be willing to help us with that?"

Dubray blinked. "Uh... that's what I came here for. What do you need?"

Andy abandoned her paperwork and came to stand beside Sam at the glass. Her heart was racing. She shot a glance at Sam's profile. He looked more relaxed than she'd seen him all week.

"We know you were at the scenes, so we probably have some samples of you in our evidence. Would you provide us with finger prints?"

"Yeah," Dubray picked up his coffee cup and sipped.

"What about shoe impressions?"

"Okay."

Luke suppressed a smile, he'd thought it was a long shot. But clearly Dubray thought he had them fooled. "A DNA sample would also help us out."

Dubray met Luke's gaze. His watery eyes were steady, searching. After a moment of complete silence he nodded. "Whatever you need."

"Thank you," Luke smiled. "Now before I get another officer in here to take these samples. I'd like to go through each scene again with you. We know we will probably find your finger prints and maybe even DNA on Laurie Wilkes." He pulled the 2004 file to the top of the pile. "Why don't we start there?"

"Sure."

It took two hours for Luke to finish with Dubray. Andy and Sam split the time between completing paperwork and just observing the detective at work. Luke was on his game, but so was Dubray. To Andy it was like watching a pro-tennis match. Luke would serve up a questions, and Dubray would effortlessly return. Once and a while Dubray would misstep, a tiny inconsistency in his story . Fifteen-love. But then he would somehow manage to catch and correct the slip and it would be back to zero.

o o o

By the time Luke left the interrogation room he was exhausted. Over three hours he'd spent crossing swords with an opponent who was as clever as he was sadistic. It had taken its toll.  Yet, Luke couldn't help smiling. Despite the weariness he felt like celebrating. They were going to get Dubray, he could feel it.

Dubray had given up nothing incriminating in his interview. He'd actually been amazingly consistent through each retelling. But even though Luke hadn't managed to elicit a confession or chip away at the cover story Dubray had clearly practiced, he had won a much more important victory. He'd convinced Dubray to give them a DNA sample and finger prints. He'd been, for lack of a better word, surprised, when Dubray had agreed to give the samples. Perhaps Dubray had a story for why his DNA was on the scene, or perhaps he thought Luke was bluffing. It really didn't matter why. What mattered was that they had them. And in a few days, when the samples were positively matched to the crime scenes, they would have Dubray.

He opened the interrogation room door, poking his head inside. Swarek and Andy were both in there, as he'd assumed they would be. "You can take Dubray home as soon as they've finished with him," he said, waiting only until they both looked over at him and nodded before letting the door close and retreating to his office.   

Normally after a day like today he would offer to buy his team a round, but not today. He'd spent more time already with Swarek than he'd ever wanted to, and it was definitely too soon to be spending any time with Andy outside the division. 

Sam Swarek was undoubtedly the best officer fifteen had to offer for a case like this. He had quick instincts and an almost mania for conviction on rape cases. But working with him had not been easy. Even if Swarek wasn't lying about him and McNally, anyone watching the partners together could tell it was only a matter of time before that changed. Luke had made a career out of reading people. He should have seen it sooner. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such an idiot.

Andy had done well on this one. She had good instincts. This wasn't his first breakup, not even the first time he'd had to work with an ex, but never had he been forced to work a seven day stretch with an ex and the man who had stolen her away - even if no one but Luke realized it - only days after breaking up. It was painful. Every time they were in a room together he was stuck somewhere between missing her and wanting to throw her out on  her ear.

This case could not be over soon enough.

o o o

"Do you think we have enough?" Andy asked as they pulled away from Dubray's home.

Sam kept his eyes on the road as he considered the question. They didn't have a confession or even any incriminating statements. The evidence placing Dubray at the crime scenes was weak, any decent trial lawyer would easily be able to convince a jury the police had been grasping at straws and had pinned the crimes on an innocent bystander. Really, they had next to nothing. But Callaghan had gotten Dubray to willingly provide DNA and fingerprints. If those matched the samples collected at the scene, they would be able to arrest Dubray and obtain a search warrant. Still, even with a positive match on the DNA and the fingerprints, the prosecutor would not be happy. And in Sam's experience, an unhappy prosecutor meant nothing good. "Hope so," he answered her question at last.

Andy studied his profile, unanswered questions building on her tongue. How close was this case to Sarah's? Why had only one of the men been convicted for that attack? Had it been like this case, no leads and no usable evidence? Had their suspects managed to avoid incriminating themselves in interrogation?

He looked over at her, "You're quiet. Everything alright?"

She nodded, chewing thoughtfully at her bottom lip. She couldn't ask him about Sarah. As much as she wanted to, she just couldn't.  

"Okay," his tone told her that he wasn't buying it, but, as usual, he was willing to let her tell him on her own time.

They passed the rest of the drive in silence. Andy opened her mouth several times to ask him about Sarah, but stopped herself just short each time. One day she hoped he would tell her about it, but she wasn't going to force it.

Sam backed the cruiser into its space and killed the engine. "You going to the Penny?"

Andy shook her head. The ache from that morning was gone, but alcohol still sounded like a terrible idea. "Straight home to sleep for me." She said, opening the door and stepping out into the cool evening air.

"Need a ride?"

Andy smiled, "Sure." She didn't really. Despite the cold air it was a nice night, and she could probably use the walk, but  ever since her conversation with Traci, she was determined not to waste an opportunity to spend time with Sam.

Half an hour later she met him out front. He'd showered and his black hair was damp and sticking up in spikes as if he'd shaken out the worst of the moisture and then just let it be. She resisted an urge to smooth it for him.

 "Big plans for your days off?" He asked, unlocking his truck with a press of the key fob.

Andy hesitated. _'I wanted to surprise him. Believe me, Andy, he will be thrilled to see you.'_ Sarah's voiceechoed through her head. "Nothing major." She said, squelching a pang of guilt. _'You're not lying, you're just not telling him.'_ She hoped Sam would agree with Traci on that one.

"Some R&R, maybe a little TV?"

"Something like that," She tossed her bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Well you earned it this week." He scanned the street before pulling the truck out.

Andy smiled. She was exhausted, but overall she'd had much worse weeks. Her first week off probation had gone pretty damn well. "What about you?"

"Heading up to St. Catharine's Thursday for the weekend."

"Your Birthday, right?"

"Yeah."

The truck turned onto Andy's street and came to a stop in front of her building. "Thanks," She said, opening the passenger door. "Have a great birthday."

He smiled, "I will."

"Goodnight." Feeling strangely reluctant, Andy climbed out of the truck and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"'Night." Sam waited until she was inside before pulling away from the curb and driving away. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Wednesday morning Andy was up and showered before ten o'clock. She'd slept like a rock the night before. The first real night of sleep since she and Luke had ended things. It was her first day off, normally a day she wasted napping and watching up on the TV she'd recorded on her PVR during the previous week, generally letting her mind and body recover from seven ten hour shifts in a row. But today she had a mission.

It was a little after eleven when Andy knocked on the front door of the house Gail, Chris and Dov shared. A bleary eyed, shirtless Chris answered. "Oh, hey Andy."

Andy smiled, since she'd been reassigned to Sam and the homicide case, she hadn't seen much of her fellow rookies. Chris and Dov had been working together for the last few days she knew, though on what she had no idea. "Hey, Chris. Is Gail here?"

"Gail?" Chris' eyebrows rose. "Yeah, she's here. Come on in."

Andy stepped inside, letting the screen door swing shut behind her. Chris disappeared down the hall and she could hear the indistinct rumbling of his voice along with Gail's on the other side of the house. A few minutes later, Gail appeared.

She stopped a few feet away, leaning one shoulder against the wall. "Andy. What's up?"

Andy took a deep breath, "I was wondering if you would come shopping with me."

"Why?" Gail looked like she might laugh; as if the idea of spending the day with Andy was so ludicrous she couldn't help but laugh.

"Look," Andy shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans nervously, "Traci has her kid all day, and I need a dress for Thursday so today's kind of my one and only shot."

Gail looked Andy up and down slowly, one corner of her mouth quirked despite her attempt to suppress a smile. Done her appraisal, she shrugged. "I can spare an hour, but you're buying me lunch."

"Sure." Andy was so relieved Gail had agreed she probably would have said yes to anything, "Thank you, Gail." 

"No problem." Gail smirked, grabbing her purse from the hook behind the door."You clearly need the help."

They drove to Eaton Centre in complete silence. Andy felt like she should say something, anything, to break the silence, but she was painfully aware that she and Gail had nothing in common outside of fifteen division.  

"So what are you dressing up for, anyway?" Gail asked when they stepped through the sliding doors.

Andy grimaced, last night she'd thought she could get through today without telling Gail why she needed the dress, but now that they were here, it seemed stupid. If things went the way she wanted them to Thursday, it might not be long before the entire station knew anyway.  "Um, I'm having dinner with Sam's family."

Gail shot her a surprised look, "I thought you were dating Detective Callaghan."

"We broke up." Andy didn't elaborate.

"You and Swarek?" Gail nodded, "I can see that."

Andy wasn't sure how to respond, so she said nothing.

"Where's the dinner?" Gail had come to a stop in front of a map of the mall.

"His sister's place."

"Ok, so nothing too short, low or fancy." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, running one finger down the list of ladies apparel stores. "Aritzia has some nice stuff that isn't too expensive."

With that they were off. Andy trailed Gail like an obedient puppy as she wove her way through the crowded mall. When they reached the store Gail immediately picked out four dresses, grabbing two sizes of each and sent Andy to the back of the store to start trying them on.

Andy would never have picked a single of the dresses out for herself, but according to Traci's appraisal of her wardrobe the night before, she thought this might be a good thing.  The first dress was way too big, the next felt too small, but when she stepped out to take a look at it in the mirror Gail nodded in something akin to approval.

"That is definitely a third date dress," She passed Andy three more to try on. "Start with the white one. I think it's a keeper."

On the hanger the white dress looked like a mu-mu and Andy half wondered if Gail was just getting her to try it on for kicks. She tried it on anyway. It was an extremely simple dress and surprisingly comfortable. There was a narrow belt around her waist and the asymmetrical top only stayed on one shoulder, sliding down the other so her shoulder was completely exposed.

"Perfect." Gail declared when Andy stepped out of the change room.

Even Andy had to admit it looked much better on than it had on the hanger. "You don't think it's too..." She fished for a word. Casual? Simple? Sack-like?

"No." Gail handed Andy a pair of camel coloured pumps. "With these and your hair mostly down."

Andy took the shoes, they were a size too small, but she crammed her toes into them and managed to get the idea.

"Trust me," Gail said, yanking the elastic out of Andy's ponytail with a little more force than necessary. "This will do the trick."

Andy had to admit Gail had an eye for this. With the camel coloured pumps and her hair curling around her shoulders the dress that had looked shapeless and boring on the rack was actually quite beautiful. The white fabric made her fading summer tan look like it had a month earlier. The off the shoulder look was casual, but not in an 'I picked this up off the floor and I'm not even sure it's mine' way. The skirt ended two inches above her knees, long enough that she would be comfortable sitting, but still short enough to show off her legs.  She knew she was staring at herself, but she couldn't help it. She looked good.

Gail smiled a little at Andy's face in the mirror, "I would get the other one too, though. No way jeans are going to cut it after he sees you in this."

"You're the expert." It didn't take long for Andy to change back into her jeans and gather up both dresses. She left the rest in the change room. "They have those shoes in a nine?" she asked the saleswoman.

"So you and Callaghan," Gail leaned her elbows against the till, as they waited for the clerk to return with the right shoe size, "when did that end?"

"Last week."

Gail nodded, "Before or after Best assigned you to the Moss Park case?"

Andy grimaced, "Before."

"God, that's got to be awkward."

"You have no idea." Andy twirled a stand of jewellery, none of which she would be caught dead in.

"Does he know you're seeing Swarek?"

"I'm not."

Gail raised her eyebrows. "Right, you're just spending a couple hundred dollars on new clothes to spend time with his family."

Andy scanned the store, hoping the sales woman would return so they could change topics. "It's... complicated."

"I bet."

"Look, Gail," Andy turned to face the blonde, "His sister invited me to their place for dinner, and I said yes so..."

"Swarek doesn't know, and you'd like to keep it that way." Gail finished for her. "I can keep a secret."

"Good."

Gail picked up a pair of earrings, holding them up to her face so see how they looked, "I meant it you know."

"Meant what?"

"You and Swarek, you're good together." She hung the earrings back on the rack, "I never really understood why you were with Callaghan in the first place."

Andy stared at her, at a loss for words until the sales clerk returned with a box of sized nine heels.  

Ten minutes later Andy had two new dresses, a pair of shoes, and a new $227.89 charge on her Visa.  All she could think was this had better work.  

o o o

Sam pulled his truck into an empty slot outside of Tommy McNally's building and cut the engine. The older man was out front, smoking a cigarette a few meters away from the front door. He tossed the smoke down and stomped it out with one foot when he saw Sam get out of the truck.  

"Thanks for coming," Tommy shook Sam's hand.

"Any time," Sam said, meaning it. There was something immensely satisfying about climbing under the hood of a car, figuring out the problem and fixing it single handedly. He grabbed his tool box from the back of his truck and indicated with his head that Tommy should lead the way.

When he'd volunteered to get Tommy's car running again he hadn't really thought anything of it. The car wouldn't start, Sam was pretty good with cars, and he had nothing better planned for his first day off. Now that he was here though he wondered if he should have told Andy. He didn't know how often she checked in on Tommy, he just hoped today wasn't one of those days. She'd opened up to him about Tommy, the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like that was a mistake. He'd never met anyone quite as bad at accepting help as Andy McNally.

Tommy's 1990 Lincoln Continental was parked on a stained patch of pavement at the back of the apartment building. Judging by the oil stains all over the concrete, Tommy wasn't the first one to use it as an impromptu garage. He's already jacked the car up  off the ground so Sam would have easy access to the Continental's underbelly.

"I picked up the fuel filter yesterday." Tommy said, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "It's on the seat there. Anything else you need?"

Sam shook his head. He wouldn't know until he took a look, but from their conversation Sunday night he was pretty sure a clogged filter was the problem.  If he was right it wouldn't take long to fix.   

Tommy didn't walk away, instead he leaned his back against the brick wall and pulled out his pack of smokes "You mind?"

"Just don't get too close to the fuel," he half-joked. Tommy was a good ten meters back from the car, but a stray spark at the right time could ignite something.

He popped the hood and grabbed a rag and small screwdriver from his toolbox. He wrapped the rag around the Schrader valve and the fuel rail it connected to. With practiced hands he released the pressure on the line, soaking up the inevitably spray of gasoline with the rag. He was aware of Tommy watching him work, but he didn't feel the need to make conversation until the older man broke the silence.  

"You get that spot in guns and gangs yet?"

For a moment Sam wondered how Tommy had known about guns and gangs, but then it was something he'd always wanted, even back when he was a rookie and Tommy was a homicide detective over at fifteen. "No, I'm still working the streets." He said, tossing the fuel soaked rag in a bucket and grabbing a couple fresh ones and a 20mm crescent wrench from his tool box. He set the rag and wrench down and slid under the driver's side of the car.

Tommy snubbed out his cigarette against the brick wall as Sam began to work the fuel line loose from the filter. "You've been taking good care of my girl?"

Sam went perfectly still for a moment, fuel from the recently disconnected line dripping past his ear and landing on the rag he'd tossed down. He was relieved he was laying half-under the car so Tommy couldn't see his face. "Andy doesn't need anyone to take care of her." He said, choosing his words carefully. He twisted the wrench one more turn and pulled the filter free.

Tommy laughed, "She's stubborn. Like her old man."

Sam smiled, setting the filter on a rag so he could loosen the last bolt on the fuel line.  Stubborn was definitely a good word for Andy McNally. Stubborn, loyal, maddening, intoxicating... He stopped his mind abruptly, forcing it to focus on the task at hand. "She's a good cop." He pulled the nut loose, and dropped it on the rag beside him.

"She's a McNally," Tommy said, pride evident in his voice. 

Sam emerged from under the car, wiping his grease stained hands off on his jeans. The fuel would need to drain for a few minutes before he could get in there and install the new filter.

"She trusts you." Tommy held out a clean rag for Sam to take. "She doesn't trust a lot of people."

Sam rolled his lips together, searching his mind for the best response. He'd never been great with words. "I would never do anything to hurt her." Even as he said it his traitorous mind flashed back to all the mistakes he'd made. There had been more than he cared to think about. "Not intentionally." He added, wiping the rest of the grease off on the rag. A quick glance under the car told him the fuel had stopped flowing. He bent down and carefully transferred the gas sodden rags and the old fuel pump into a bucket, he would dispose of them properly afterwards.

"Good." Tommy's voice was gruff, "because if you do..."

Sam turned to meet Tommy's gaze. "There will be a line of people, mostly cops, out for my blood. Probably led by my own sister." He smiled as he said the last part. Sarah loved him unconditionally, but he was pretty certain she would take Andy's side if he ever did anything wrong.

Tommy chuckled and the tension left the air. "I'll leave you to it." Tommy gestured vaguely toward the car. "Come on up when you're done. I make a mean roast beef sandwich." 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Andy had never been a girlie girl. The very idea of primping for hours had always seemed sublimely ridiculous. It probably helped that she'd been blessed with a pretty face and hair that tended to look nice even if she just let it air dry. Even on those occasions where she wanted to look nice, the only real effort she usually made was to run a straightening iron through her long hair and maybe to add an extra layer of mascara. She prided herself on being low maintenance and on her ability to get from bed to door, fully ready for the day, in thirty minutes flat.

Which was why Andy was completely unprepared for the attack of nerves she felt around two thirty Thursday afternoon, fully two hours before she would normally give a thought to getting ready, as she packed her overnight bag and pulled out the dress she'd bought the day before. She hung the dress over the back of the bathroom door and stepped back, squaring off with the rich white fabric much the way she would an armed suspect. Equal parts fear and calculation as she tried to determine whether it was likely to be the end of her or not. She felt suddenly insecure.

It was all wrong.

Gail said it was  perfect, but what did Gail know. Gail was, well, Gail. The girl who wore bright red lipstick on the job, who planned her outfits three dates in advance when she shopped, and who knew how to wrap a man like Chris Diaz around her pinkie finger. What could Gail Peck possibly know about Sam Swarek?

If there was anyone in fifteen division who was the polar opposite of Sam Swarek it was Chris. Sam exuded a confidence that bordered on cockiness. Chris bumbled his way through, all naive charm and acquiescence. The more dangerous the job, the brighter the spark of excitement in Sam's eyes. Chris worked by the book. To Chris rules were there for a reason. Rules were safety and consistency and all good things. Sam didn't have rules. If he played by anyone's rules at all it was only because they suited his purpose. There was no denying they were both good men, but when it came down to it, Chris was an eager puppy and Sam was a six year old German Shepherd from the drug squad, and Andy had never been one for puppies.

Andy sighed. She and Gail were nearly as different as Sam and Chris. Maybe the differences didn't matter when it came to this stuff. Andy hadn't been in enough successful relationships to know. Perhaps when it came to silly, inconsequential things like what to wear, all men were the same. She hoped so, but there was a knot of anxiety in her belly that refused to be soothed.

She took two steps forward and picked up the dress again, preparing to stash it in the closet, pausing to run one hand over the silk fabric. It really was a lovely dress. And it wasn't like she had anything else to wear. "Fine," she muttered, laying it across her bed, "he better appreciate it, or I'm going to kill Gail." She shook her head. She couldn't be sure, but talking to your clothing had to be an early sign of madness.

An hour later Andy had showered, shaved and blown her hair dry. She'd let it curl naturally, remembering Gail's advice from the afternoon before. She rather liked how it looked curly, except for her bangs, which already seemed to curl just enough to stick straight out from her head.  Two bobby pins easily remedied the bang situation. She surveyed hr handiwork in the mirror and decided it looked nice. It was a look he'd seen before, but one that she thought made her look softer and a little more feminine than her usual braid or pony tail. 

Makeup was trickier. Sam had seen her usual makeup hundreds of times over the last eight months, but worse than that, he'd seen what she usually passed off as special occasion makeup twice - once when she'd been posing as the world's least convincing prostitute, the other when she'd been backing him up by pretending to be a stripper with a fondness for smack dealers. Clearly she couldn't go with her usual style.

She considered calling Traci or even Gail for help, but she dismissed the idea as soon as it entered her head. It was just makeup, she could do this.

It took three tries and nearly forty-five minutes, but in the end it was perfect. A thin line of plum eyeliner along the upper and lower lash line, light grey eye shadow and a sweep of black mascara brought out the gold flecks in her brown eyes. A light sweep of blush over both cheeks and a coat of a subtly shimmery lip gloss, one she'd bought months ago from Victoria Secret because it smelt like grapefruit and then promptly forgotten about, finished off the look.

The idea of jewellery was abandoned after five minutes of staring at the three necklaces she owned and dismissing them one by one as not quite right. Which meant all that was left was to get dressed. After the ordeal of makeup, it was nice not to have to think as she fastened the twenty snaps along the front of her cream coloured bustier and slipped on a pair of matching bamboo panties. She'd been mortified when Gail had insisted they pick up brand new under garments for both dresses, but once she slid the dress over top and took a look in the mirror she had to admit Gail had been right again. thigh high silk stockings and her new camel coloured pumps and she was ready to go.

She checked the clock beside the bed, Ed was due to pick her up in five minutes time. She slipped on her wool winter coat and slung her backpack over one shoulder. The backpack didn't do much for her outfit, but Sarah had made it clear this was an overnight visit, and Andy couldn't exactly fit everything she needed for a night away from home into a tiny clutch purse.

o o o

"Sammy! What are you doing here?"

"Birthday.. dinner... ringing any bells?"

"I'm sorry," She pulled him into a tight hug, "Happy Birthday! Now what are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you until six-thirty."

Sam shrugged. He'd been hoping to get to St. Catharines before Ed drove the kids to Niagra Falls, but clearly he hadn't been quite early enough. From the single car in the driveway and the tranquility of the house he was pretty sure Sarah was home alone. "How can I help?"

"Umm." Sarah looked around the kitchen brow furrowed, she really had everything under control. She'd been excitedly anticipating tonight for weeks, and had it planned down to the last second. "How are you with a potato peeler?"

"I think I can manage."

Sarah handed him a bag of Yukon Golds, a peeler and a pot.  "This is an awful lot of food for three people," Sam said casually, watching his sister out of the corner of his eye.

She flushed a little before turning so he couldn't see her face, "I use the leftovers for casseroles." 

"So it's just the three of us for dinner," He kept his tone light, "no unexpected guests this year?"

For a moment Sarah stilled, did he know? But no, if he knew he wouldn't be fishing for information. So he suspected, but he didn't know. Not quite the surprise she'd hoped for, but she would take it. "You never know who might stop by." She said smiling at him as she covered a large bowl of mixed greens with saran wrap before placing it in the fridge.

Sam shook his head, unable to stop the amused chuckle that escaped his lips. "You never stop do you?"

"Nope." Sarah sounded entirely too pleased with herself and Sam tossed a potato peel at her. She retaliated by flicking water from the tap at him.

"That's it," He dropped the potato and peeler on the cutting board and advanced on his sister, a look of mock-fury on his face. 

Sarah shrieked with laughter as he grabbed the sprayer and blasted her with a stream of cold water. "Uncle! Uncle!" She cried, collapsing to the floor, arms up in a vain attempt to shield her hair from the water.

Sam dropped the sprayer in the sink and shut off the tap. "Just remember this next time," He said in a teasing tone. He offered her a hand up and passed her a tea towel to mop the moisture off her face.

"I'm just trying to help," she said, pouting at him through soggy strands of hair.

Sam pulled her into a hug, "I know."

She pulled back, grinning up at him. "Now that you've ruined my hair, can I trust you to finish those potatoes while I go clean up?"

Sam just smiled, looking prodigiously proud of himself.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah snapped the damp tea towel against his arm on her way out of the kitchen. She couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She hadn't seen Sam this happy in... she pondered for a moment. No, she hadn't seen Sam this happy, ever.  She was all but certain Andy McNally had something to do with her brother's happiness and couldn't wait for Ed to return home with her. This was going to be the best birthday dinner she'd ever hosted, she could feel it.

o o o

"Sarah said your kids were in Niagara Falls for the night?" Andy asked as Ed pulled his silver Chevy Malibu onto the 403-W, smoothly merging with the evening traffic. They'd already torn through most of the polite small talk in Andy's repertoire, but from experience, she knew most parents could talk forever once you got them started on their kids. Apart from her desire to stave off awkward silence, or worse, awkward questions, Andy found she was curious about Sam's niece and nephew. He seemed to be very fond of them. But fondness for children was completely incongruous with the Sam she knew.  It was hard to imagine the man she'd come to know over the last several months willingly spending more than ten minutes with any children.

"My parents have Samantha and Mitch for the weekend." He confirmed, "We just threw a party for Mitch, and Sarah always likes to keep Sammy's birthday adults only. My parents are always happy to have them."

Andy smiled, "I loved Niagara Falls when I was a kid. I used to think Clifton Hill was the most amazing place." She chuckled at the memory. Her mother had _hated_ Clifton Hill. The last time the McNally family travelled there, Andy was twelve and she dragged her mother through the street, forcing her to partake in every cheesy tourist activity she could find. That was the last time the family had gone anywhere together.

"I love it too," Ed nodded enthusiastically. "Great place for kids. I actually tried to convince Sarah to move out that way when Mitch was born, but St. Catharines is home."

Just like her own story, she was pretty certain Ed was leaving important and possibly painful bits out, but she didn't push. "Where did you two meet?" She asked instead, changing tactics.

"I saw Sarah for the first time just outside the OIEST building at the University of Toronto  on  November 3, 1991.

Andy smiled warmly. That he remembered the exact date and locations of his first sighting of his wife spoke volumes.

"Of course, it took me another year to convince her to go out with me, but that is a long story."

Andy let the subject drop, making a mental note to ask Sarah at some point. A man who would persist for a year just for a first date, until today she would have sworn that was simply a myth created in Hollywood to sell more romance movies. There was definitely a story there that was worth hearing.

"Are you still seeing that detective?" Ed's voice was casual, but Andy wondered how much of that was faked. She was all but convinced Sarah was trying to hook her up with Sam, but whether Ed was in on the plan was a mystery.

Andy shook her head, "Luke and I broke up."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ed's voice held genuine empathy.

"Thanks," Andy shrugged, "it was for the best." She knew it was the clichéd answer, the one that everyone said no matter how much their heart ached over the breakup. But for her it was the truth. She and Luke hadn't worked. Not really. Even in the beginning when it was all sex and coffee and laughter,  she'd never even wanted to spend the night. That was decidedly abnormal. And no matter how many times she told herself she was to blame for the occasions of weirdness, she knew deep down it was _them._ She and Luke were wrong for each other, and no amount of denying could have changed that.  

"Does Sam know?"

Andy raised one eyebrow. It was an odd question. "Yes." She stared at him for a moment hoping he could elaborate.

After a moment of silence he did, "Sarah will probably ask you about Luke before you've had a chance to take off your coat." He shot her a quick apologetic look. "I thought you should have a heads up."

She was pretty sure that wasn't the whole story. "She's trying to match me and Sam up, isn't she?" It wasn't really a question.

"You're perceptive."

"She's not really subtle."

Ed chuckled. "True. Sarah can be..." he searched for a word that wouldn't land him in the dog house for an eternity if Sarah ever found out, "persistent. Especially when it comes to Sam's happiness."

Andy smiled, "So be ready for the hard sell?"

Ed shot a quick look at her before turning his eyes back to the road. "Exactly."

Andy let her head fall back against the headrest, watching house after house flash past the window. "Makes me wish I had a brother or sister." She said wistfully. It was true, though she'd never spoken it aloud before. Seeing Sam and Sarah together, even for the brief dinner weeks earlier, had reawakened a longing she hadn't had since she was a child. Most of the time being an only child was okay, but when she thought about all the times she'd stayed up half the night, sick with worry, waiting for Tommy to come staggering in, wishing her mother was still there. It would have been nice to have someone there to share the burden.

"I know what you mean." Ed said.

"You're an only child too?" Andy realized she really didn't know anything about Ed. She didn't even know how he and Sarah had met.

"Yeah." He shrugged, "I was always kind of happy about it, until I met Sarah."

"She and Sam are something special." Andy agreed.

"I am a lucky man."

Andy smiled. There was no hint of irony in his voice, he truly felt lucky to have Sarah. She hoped one day someone would feel that way about her.

o o o

By 6:30, dinner was well on its way to being ready. Sarah too was nearly presentable. She'd received a slightly panicked text from Ed a little after five telling her to dress up and make sure Sam wasn't in his usual St. Catharines visit uniform of t-shirt and jeans. A purple dress and a touch of makeup and she knew she would be dressed up enough that Andy needn't feel uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure what to do about Sam.

She flipped through her closet. Ed was taller and narrower than Sam so his clothes wouldn't do. Thankfully, she'd bought him a new dress shirt and tie for his birthday and she was pretty sure she still had a pair of his dress pants from Easter. She was forever offering to hem or mend his clothes, usually  after her children did their best to wreck them, and then forgetting to give them back. For once this was going to come in handy.

Sam was keeping himself busy and out of her way in front of the TV in the den. When she entered the room, carrying a pair of black pants and a new shirt and tie, he was watching with an amused smirk on his face as two men with white hair in suits discussed the Toronto Maple Leafs chance to make the playoffs this season - not good apparently.

"You look nice," Sam said, powering the TV off.

"Thank you," Sarah smiled, tossing him the clothing she carried, "Go change into those."

Sam raised both eyebrows, "Alright, Sarah, spill. Who's you invite?"

Sarah glared at him for a moment. He really was too perceptive by half. "What?" She tried to look innocent, but was pretty sure he wasn't buying it. " Can't a sister want to enjoy a fancy dinner with her family when the kids are gone?"

The look he gave her told Sarah he knew she was hiding something, but he was going to humour her for the moment. He picked up the clothes and set the remote down on the coffee table. He paused as he passed her, "Andy's not really one for dressing up," he said before continuing on his way. He didn't have to look behind him to know that Sarah was glaring suspiciously at his back. When she finally found her voice to yell, "Who told you?" His laughter was the only answer she received.  


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Sarah yawned for the third time since they'd moved to the living room to enjoy their wine by the fire.

Sam shot her a pointed look. The first two yawns had been subtle, the third was not.

Dinner had gone surprisingly well. Between Ed's stories of the children in his class and the watered down tales he and Andy shared about their work, conversation had flowed as smoothly as the merlot. Sarah had lit candles and dimmed the lights, creating an ambience that was unusual, but not unwelcome. He and Andy had been placed across from each other, for which Sam was grateful, the fact he couldn't keep his eyes off her would have been much more obvious had they been seated side by side.

She looked amazing. Had he not told Sarah he knew Andy was coming, he probably could have gotten away with blaming surprise for the wide eyes, open mouthed stare that had lasted several seconds longer than his dignity was comfortable with. At least, he thought, Andy seemed to think it was merely surprise at seeing her there, rather than lust-coloured awe at her appearance. She always looked beautiful, even in her uniform. But the soft white fabric of her dress, and the enticing way it slipped off one shoulder, accentuated everything that was feminine and lovely about her. Sam was fairly certain Andy in that dress would feature prominently in his fantasies for weeks to come.

"I'm sorry, Andy." Sarah said, ignoring her brother, "I'm usually not such a terrible hostess, it's just been one of those days."

Andy smiled, "It's late." She's curled one foot beneath her so she could sink back into the white leather arm chair. She looked more relaxed than Sam had seen her in weeks.

"The fire will go for another hour or so..." She let the sentence dangle.

Andy took the bait. "Sam and I can watch it."

"Are you sure?"

Sam glared at Sarah. Subtlety was not her strong suit. She returned his glare with a look that clearly told him she was doing this for his own good and he should be grateful.

He shook his head minutely, but against his will a small smile stole over his face. He was grateful, more than Sarah would ever know. Any reason to spend more time with Andy away from fifteen was welcome as far as he was concerned. His only fear was, as he'd told Ed, that he could somehow let his sister down. Sam hadn't exactly experienced rousing success in the relationship department. Sure there had been women, but never for more than a few months at a time. He'd been jealous more than once of what Sarah and Ed shared, but he'd always assumed that type of camaraderie wasn't made for someone like him. Though as he watched Andy reassuring Sarah that she didn't mind one bit if the couple went to bed and left Andy and Sam to take care of the fire, Sam wondered for the first time if he might have been wrong about that.

Once Sarah's hostessing conscience was sated by Andy's repeated reassurance that they would be fine, Ed and Sarah disappeared upstairs. The 'good luck' and exaggerated wink from his sister from the doorway did nothing to still the sudden butterflies in Sam's stomach. 

 "I always wanted a wood burning fireplace," Andy said picking up her wine and moving closer to the fire. She grabbed the ottoman to Sam's chair and set it a few feet away from the flames.

She was close enough to touch and Sam swallowed, hard. Her skin seemed to glow in the firelight. God she was beautiful. "I think it's why Sarah picked this house."

"I used to go camping every summer with my dad," Andy's voice was wistful. "He used to build up these huge fires and then we'd stay up all night waiting for them to go out. Just roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories." She half turned so she was facing Sam, the fire behind her catching the natural red in her hair and lighting up it up in a fiery halo.

"Sounds nice." Sam had never been camping. He really wasn't much of an outdoorsman. But staying up all night with only Andy McNally and a roaring fire for company... He couldn't think of anything he would rather do.

She smiled, but there was a deep sadness in her eyes. "It was."

Sam wondered when the camping trips had stopped. He knew her mother had left when she was fourteen, he knew Tommy was an alcoholic, but beyond that he really knew nothing about her past. Maybe one day she would tell him about it. "I've never roasted a marshmallow."

"Never?" Andy's eyes widened comically.

He shook his head.

She stared at him in disbelief for several seconds before breaking into a mischievous grin  "Next summer we are going to the woods and you are roasting a marshmallow."

"Why not right now?"

Andy studied him, "Now?"

"We already have the fire, I'm sure Sarah has marshmallows in the kitchen."

"You're serious?"

He shrugged, "Why not?" He could see her mind whirring, seeking a reason why they shouldn't. When she grinned he knew she'd come up empty.

She drained the rest of her wine glass in a single swallow and stood. "If we light the house on fire, I'm blaming you." She said over her shoulder, as she walked past him in the direction of the kitchen.  

Chuckling, Sam followed her to the kitchen. Marshmallows were easily located. In a cupboard above the stove, well out of reach of the kids and probably Sarah herself if she didn't use a stool, but Sam reached them with ease. More difficult was finding something to roast them on.

Andy rejected regular dinner forks immediately as too short, and they spent the next few minutes silently searching the kitchen. At first Andy stood back, reluctant to riffle through Sarah's drawers, but soon she couldn't resist joining in. Chopsticks were discarded as too flammable, a roasting fork as too unwieldy,   and on it went until finally Andy held up two long, thin two-tonged forks with a crow of triumph.

Sam eyed the forks dubiously. About the only thing those looked good for was taking out an eye.

"Fondue forks," Andy explained, reaching past him to grab the bag of marshmallows off the counter.

Judging by the pristine condition of the fondue forks and the fact that she'd found them lying alongside birthday candles and twist ties Sam suspected that they were a wedding gift. In all likelihood an unwanted wedding gift his sister had all but forgotten about the moment they'd been squirreled away in a drawer. He had no qualms about sticking them in the fire.

He found a king sized Jersey Milk bar in Sarah's not-so-secret junk food stash behind the spice rack, and a box of graham crackers from the cupboard before following Andy back into the living room. He may never have been camping or roasted a marshmallow, but he wasn't completely ignorant about the concept of s'mores. Though, admittedly, before tonight he'd never imagined he might want one.

The sight that met his eyes when he stepped into the living room stopped him in his tracks. His heart thudded almost painfully against his rib cage. Andy had kicked off her shoes and was curled on the floor by the fire. She leaned back against one hand, her head tilted just far enough to one side to send her hair cascading in that direction, exposing the shoulder her dress didn't cover. Her skin and hair caught the firelight, looking impossibly soft in the golden light. As he stood, transfixed, she tore off a piece of marshmallow and popped it in her mouth, taking the whole finger between her lips so she could lick the sugary treat off the tip. He sucked in a breath.

Andy turned her head, looking towards him over her bare shoulder, finger sliding out of her mouth. She raised her eyebrows in a silent 'what are you doing?'

Sam mentally shook himself before joining her on the floor. He stretched his legs out behind her, angled to he could see her and the fire easily, leaning back against the arm of the couch. He dropped the crackers and chocolate between them like an offering.

Her face lit up in a smile and his heart stuttered painfully in response. Their eyes met and for a moment he just drank her in.

Andy broke eye contact first, a light flush suffusing her cheeks. "Alright," her voice was a little shaky, "You need one of these," she passed him a fondue fork.

Sam took the fork from her, deliberately brushing her hand with his fingers for a little longer than necessary before taking it from her.

"And a marshmallow," she continued, still sounding flustered. She fumbled with the bag once before successfully extracting a marshmallow. Once again Sam's fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary on hers. Despite the heat of the fire he could see goose bumps crawling up her arm to match the ones he could feel on his own.

He speared the marshmallow and watched Andy intently as she demonstrated how to lightly toast the marshmallow without lighting it on fire.  The fire was beginning to die out, but the low flames and red hot embers provided plenty of heat for the task. As far as Sam could tell the hardest part was getting the cooked marshmallow from the fork to the cracker without getting sticky white sugar all over one's finger.

Andy held the first completed s'more out to Sam, "Birthday boy eats first," she mimicked Sarah's words from earlier that evening.

He took it and broke it more or less in half, handing one half back to her. It was messy and he ended up with marshmallow all over two fingers, but it was delicious. Judging by the blissful smile on Andy's face she thought so too.

Sam lit the next marshmallow on fire, but fortunately Andy was able to blow it out before any of it hit the hardwood. He really didn't want to explain to anyone that he'd lit his sister's house on fire because he was too busy watching Andy McNally lick errant bits of marshmallow off her fingers - wishing he were licking it off for her - to pay attention to the mini fireball he'd created.

His second attempt was much better. Andy's hand covering his, making sure he didn't dip too close to the flame sent shivers up his spine. She held a cracker out and he used his thumb to press the marshmallow down to he could pull the fork free.  When he lifted his thumb it was white with melted marshmallow.

In practiced motions Andy slapped a square of chocolate and a cracker on top of the melted marshmallow before taking it from his hand, setting it on the hearth. Before Sam had a chance to react she took his hand in both of hers and raised it to her mouth. Her tongue darted out to lick the very tip and his eyes fell closed of their own accord. She took his entire thumb into her mouth, caressing the length of it with her tongue before focusing her attention on the candy covered pad.

He hissed in pleasure and opened his eyes.

Andy's eyes were locked on his face and there was a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She released his thumb and let go of his hand, but he did not pull away.

Holding her gaze he caressed her cheek. One corner of his mouth quirked in the beginnings of a mischievous smirk as he picked up the second s'more with his free hand and held it up to her mouth. 

She obediently took a bite, ending up with a smear of milk chocolate on her upper lip.  

Sam wiped it away with  a finger and licked the finger clean before popping the rest of the s'more into his mouth. They swallowed at almost the same moment.

Sam's hand slid from her cheek to the base of her neck, tangling in her long silken hair. Slowly, gently, giving her every opportunity to pull away, Sam leaned in. Their lips met, soft at first, tentatively feeling each other out.  She tasted like s'mores and one half of her face was hot from the fire.

She leaned into the kiss, hooking two fingers on her right hand into the collar of his shirt holding him close, he left hand planted on the floor for balance as she leaned awkwardly across his outstretched legs.

Pausing only to push aside the marshmallows, chocolate and crackers between them, Sam pulled her closer. She half sat, half lay in his lap. One of Sam's arms wrapped around her waist, the other remained fixed in her hair.

Sam dropped his head and trailed open mouthed kisses along her clavicle. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. He kept the kisses light, teasing with his tongue but making sure he wouldn't leave any marks. One day maybe, but not tonight.  He reclaimed her lips and this time there was nothing tentative about his kisses. When they finally broke apart, the fire was nothing but embers.

There was a brief scramble as they gathered up the supplied they'd stolen from Sarah's kitchen and Sam separated the remaining embers so there would be no risk of them starting up again before leading the way to the kitchen. He tossed the marshmallows, chocolate and crackers in one cupboard and left the fondue forks on the counter. Now was not the time to worry about silly things like where the crackers belonged. Not with Andy standing there, lips swollen from kissing, eyes burning in the dim light.

He stole another kiss, wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to her room.

They hovered awkwardly at the door to the guest room. Sam didn't want to say goodnight, but he also didn't want to go much further under his sister's roof. By her body language, he assumed Andy felt much the same way. He brushed a stray strand o hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Goodnight, Andy McNally," he said in a soft husky voice, lowering his head to kiss her goodnight.

He'd only intended it to be a chaste kiss, filled with promise, but closed mouthed and over in a matter of seconds. But Andy wrapped both arms around him, pulling him against her. Her tongue flicked out to taste his lower lip and he opened his mouth to her.

They staggered backwards until her back was against the door. Sam pressed into her. He could feel her breasts against his chest, her thighs against his. For a glorious moment the world seemed to disappear and all there was in the universe was Andy, the low moan in her throat, her hand slipping between them to cup his erection through layers of cloth.  She was intoxicating.

It wasn't enough.  He slid one hand under her skirt, tracing a circular pattern up her thigh. She groaned and the vibrations shot straight to his groin. He grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her so she could wrap both legs around him. He ground against her. Still it was not enough. There were too many layers.

He stopped short of reaching for her zipper. Instead he released her and let her slowly slid to the floor. His entire body throbbed with need, but he forced himself to break the kiss. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, "we should.."

He could feel her breath mingling with his, as she fought to regain normal breathing.  "Yeah. We should." She let her hands fall to her sides.

Sam cupped her face with both hands, placing a gentle, close lipped kiss against her forehead before stepping back. He trailed his fingers down her cheek as he backed away, his eyes not leaving hers. 

"Goodnight," she said softly, turning away at last.

Sam stood in the hall long after the guest room door closed behind her before finally turning back down the hall. He needed a cold shower.  


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Sarah, with the exception of two years when she was a sullen teenager who would have gladly stayed in bed all day, had always been a morning person. Ed, thankfully, slept like a rock, so the fact that she habitually rose with the sun had not hampered their relationship, even though he was decidedly an evening person. Friday morning, however, he woke as she was climbing out of bed a little before five AM.

"If you wake them, Sam is going to kill you," he said, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"I'll be quiet as anything," Sarah said as she slip on a pair of jeans beneath her nightgown. "I just want to get the cinnamon buns baking so they smell them when they wake up."

"You just want to try and catch Sam sneaking back into Mitch's room."

Sarah tossed her nightgown aside, put on her bra and a t-shirt before leaning over the bed to kiss her husband. "Only if I'm _very_ lucky."

Ed's chuckle chased her out of the room. Neither of them had been able to miss the looks passing between Sam and Andy all through dinner the night before. Though Ed was less convinced than Sarah that the couple had 'hooked up' the night before, he couldn't deny the palpable connection. From the conversation he'd had with Andy on the drive to St. Catharines, he knew she was single and interested in Sam. Still, she and Sam were partners and friends. Their work together was dangerous and trust was paramount, any romantic entanglement was certain to complicate that. Ed just hoped Sarah wouldn't put too much pressure on them. Andy was a sweet girl and she seemed perfect for Sam, but it didn't take a genius to see that she was skittish as a colt. Move too far or too fast and she was liable to bolt in the opposite direction.

He rolled over, pulled the blankets back up to his chin and before long the room was filled with his snores.

o o o

Andy woke early. A quick glance at the clock said it was barely six. She rolled onto her back and contemplated the ceiling, a silly grin on her face. Last night was amazing.

Dinner had been a huge success. Sarah had seated Andy across from Sam, and Andy hadn't missed the fact that even after he'd recovered from the gap-mouthed shock of seeing her at his sister's place, he'd barely took his eyes off her. She made a mental note to be a little nicer to Gail. The dress was definitely doing its job. Conversation had flowed more easily than Andy ever would have suspected. Ed was quite funny when he got going, and he had a seemingly endless supply of stories about kids in his class as well as his own children that kept her in stitches almost the entire night. She and Sam had taken turns sharing the more ridiculous elements of their job, carefully editing out anything that might sound dangerous, for Sarah's sake. Dinner was excellent, but it was when they'd finished the meal and taken their wine into the living room that the night really started to get interesting.

Sarah's direct approach at getting Andy and Sam alone hadn't been at all subtle, but Andy appreciated it nonetheless. She liked Sarah and Ed, but if she were perfectly honest with herself - something she generally avoided for sanity's sake - she would admit that she couldn't wait for them to leave. She certainly hadn't spent hundreds of dollars on new under garments, a dress and shoes so she could sit primly on a white leather sofa sipping wine and talking about her job.

Of course as soon as they _were_ alone, all of her usual insecurities flared to the surface. It had taken most of her courage and a generous amount of wine for Andy to move closer to Sam. Overcome with nerves she'd grabbed on to the first conversational topic that popped into her head. But it wasn't long before she remembered that no matter the butterflies in her stomach or the effort she'd put into getting ready, this was _Sam_. He was her partner, and a good friend. She could talk to him about anything. After that it had been easy.

He'd surprised her with his playfulness. She somehow managed to forget most days that Sam had a silly side. He was always so serious at work that it often seemed that day in the diner when he'd cracked her up with the worst jokes in history was something she'd dreamed up after one too many coffees on a sleepless night. But his silly side, as much as she loved it, had nothing on what came after.

They'd kissed before, but somehow in the months since the blackout she'd managed to forget how his lips on hers made her knees weak and his hands on her skin felt like fire. If he hadn't pulled away she was pretty sure she would have fucked him right there in the hallway. She would probably have been sorry afterwards, but it would have been amazing. Just thinking about the night before she could feel wetness pooling between her legs, her nipples puckered into stiff peaks. She shook off her fantasies, reminding her body sternly that this was not the time.

Knowing she would never get back to sleep, Andy pushed aside the blankets and rose. She grabbed her bag from where it lay by the door and pulled out her clothes for the day along with a hair brush. Her long curly hair was quickly twisted into a French braid, neat and out of the way. She changed from pyjamas into a pair of jeans and a loose fitting sweater.  She touched up her makeup as best she could using a Q-Tip and a bottle of mascara before venturing out into the hall. She didn't want to run into Sam with black circles of mascara under her eyes.

By the time she'd relieved herself, brushed her teeth, washed her face and applied fresh makeup, the smell of coffee and cinnamon buns wafting from the kitchen had erased any thoughts she had about returning to her room until a more reasonable hour. Tossing her toiletry bag into her backpack, she followed her nose to the kitchen.

Sarah sat alone on a bar stool at the island in the middle of her large, well appointed kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee and flipping through the morning paper. She looked up when Andy entered the room, a bright smile on her face. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you." Andy said, hovering at the door, not sure whether to take a seat or fix her own cup from the coffee pot on the counter.

"Come on in, take a seat." Sarah said, rising from her stool, "Probably won't see Ed or Sam for at least an hour, but we've got lots of coffee and I might be able to scare up some toast if you're hungry. Cinnamon buns won't be ready until eight."

"Just coffee is fine," Andy pulled out the other bar stool and took a seat.

"You sure?" Sarah asked, taking a bright red coffee mug out of the cupboard, "These men of mine are not morning people, but I've been up for an hour and I'm starved." She poured three quarters of a mug of coffee, "Milk or sugar?"

"Milk, lots of it."

Sarah pulled a four litre jug of milk out of the fridge and topped up the mug with a generous glug. "Girl after my own heart. Sam's black coffee with sugar always baffled me. Why anyone over the age of twelve would want sweet coffee is beyond me."

Andy chuckled. Tommy had started her on coffee when she was around twelve, much to her mother's displeasure. At first she'd had to add several spoonfuls of sugar and about half a cup of milk to make it drinkable, but over time she'd acquired a taste for it. She still liked it milky, but since she'd learned to appreciate the almost bitter flavour of coffee, she'd stopped with sugar altogether.

"You're sure I can't get you anything to eat?" Sarah asked, handing Andy the mug of coffee.

Andy shook her head. "I wouldn't want to spoil my appetite. Those cinnamon buns smell delicious."

Sarah flushed with pleasure at the compliment. It had taken years and hundreds of meals burnt beyond recognition, but somewhere along the way she'd become a pretty good cook.

"I don't cook," Andy admitted with something of a grimace.

"Well, I can't shoot a gun, cuff a suspect or spend all day in the same room as my brother without chucking something at his head," Sarah's smile said she was mostly joking about the last part. "We've all got our own areas of expertise."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Andy took a long sip of coffee. It was the good stuff. The twenty-dollars a pound stuff she usually avoided because if she got used to quality coffee, her taste buds would realize the free coffee at the station was akin to sewer water and she'd never be able to enjoy it again. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

"You're up early." Sam's dry voice from the doorway nearly caused Andy to spill coffee down her front.

She looked up with a smile and then dropped her eyes to the coffee in her hands, cheeks flushed. The butterflies in her stomach were in full flight and she suddenly had no idea what to do with her hands.

If Sam noticed her sudden attack of nerves, he was mercifully silent as he took a seat beside Andy at the counter. His arm brushed hers, sending a shiver straight down her spine.

"You're one to talk," Sarah said, automatically rising to pour him a cup of coffee. "I thought I'd have to drag you out of bed when the cinnamon buns were ready."

Sam took the coffee from her hands, adding three spoonfuls of sugar and giving it a quick stir before taking a sip. He ignored Sarah's teasing completely, turning to Andy. "Sleep well?"

Andy met his eyes, willing herself not to blush and mostly failing. There was an unfamiliar expression in his dark eyes and she found herself uncharacteristically tongue tied. She nodded.

"I'm going to go drag that lazy husband of mine out of bed," Sarah said to no one in particular, turning to leave the kitchen.

"Lazy, eh?" The grin on Ed's face belied his angry tone. "Just because we don't all wake with the dawn."

Sarah threw her hands up in surrender. Her plan to leave Sam and Andy alone for a few minutes foiled by her husband's entrance, she plucked another mug from the cupboard and poured Ed a cup of black coffee. "Here," She said pressing it into Ed's hands. She accepted the kiss he dropped on her lips as if it were her due before turning to check on the cinnamon buns. The timer still said five minutes, but she had a gut feeling they were nearly ready.

 Ten minutes later the foursome were sitting around the oak dining room table, sipping coffee and eating sweet sticky buns.

"What time do you need to be back in Toronto, Andy?" Ed asked between bites.

Andy shrugged, sneaking a quick glance at Sam. He was picking off a piece of cinnamon bun and didn't meet her eyes. "No deadline, I'm not back on shift until Sunday." 

"Thought we'd head out around noon, avoid the traffic." Sam said.

Before Ed could respond Sam's phone burst into obnoxious song. Shooting Sarah and apologetic look, Sam rose from the table and pulled his phone from his back pocket. He glanced at the caller ID before answering, L. Callaghan. He didn't take time to wonder why Callaghan was calling on his day off, just made his way into the kitchen before pressing accept, "Hello?" He continued through the Kitchen and into the hall where the rest of the household wouldn't overhear.

"Swarek?" Luke did not sound happy, but then he rarely did these days when talking to Sam.

"Yeah."

"We got the results." Luke sighed heavily and there was a moment of silence on the line before he continued, "It's not Dubray."

"What?" Sam plugged the ear that wasn't pressed against his Blackberry with one finger, blocking out the friendly chatter filtering in from the dining room.  

"Dubray's DNA wasn't a match." Callaghan repeatedly in a slow, overly enunciated way, as if Sam was hard of hearing and short on brains.

"That's..." Sam struggled for words. Impossible was what he wanted to say, but life, and years with the Toronto Police Service had taught him that refusing to accept reality only made things worse. Callaghan had called him on his day off, this was real. "I'm coming in." He half-barked into the phone. He didn't wait for a reply, just snapped the phone shut.

Sam sagged against the wall allowing the shock and disappointment to roll over him for several seconds before he straightened, forced his face into an almost smile and returned to the dining room. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

It was nearly three in the afternoon when Sam knocked at Callaghan's door. He'd left Andy at her apartment. She'd accepted his vague answers to her question on the drive better than he'd expected. He knew if he told her she would want to jump right in to help, it was one of the things he loved about her, but it was also why he wished he could keep her far away from this particular case. It would be just like Andy to put herself in harm's way to try and get them some usable evidence. Whether he'd killed Natalie Frances or not, Dubray was a dangerous man.

 The blonde detective opened it immediately and stepped aside to let Sam enter before closing it firmly. Callaghan was the other reason Sam hadn't told Andy about the new development. Things were strained already on this case. The last thing any of them needed was to confirm Luke's suspicions about Sam and Andy. He would find out eventually, but if Sam had any say in the matter they would solve this case first.

"I was expecting you hours ago." Luke said without malice.

"I was out of town." Sam answered as vaguely as possible.

Luke's expression was guarded. "Well, thanks for coming."

Sam waived off the thanks, his attention focused on the test results sitting at the top of the paper pile on Luke's desk. He picked up the sheet and read it over three times before handing it back to the Detective. "Could they have mixed up the samples?" He asked, knowing he was pegging this shred of hope on something that rarely happened outside a truly bad movie.

Luke shook his head. "I got these results yesterday," he waved another identical looking paper, " So I had them run it again. It's not Dubray."

"Then he's working with an accomplice."

Luke glared in Sam's direction, but both men knew his anger wasn't really aimed at Sam. "I spent all week on this. Dubray is our only suspect. If you have a genius plan then share it."

"Bring him in, search his place..." Sam ran a hand through his black hair, "Hell, put a tail on him until he tries again."

"Without a warrant." Luke asked snidely.

"So get a warrant."

"We have less evidence today than we had three days ago. No chance in hell prosecutor will sign off on a warrant." He sank into a chair, cradling his  head in his hands.

Sam leaned back against the wall, head falling back against the white plaster with a muted thud. For a long moment there was silence in the room. Callaghan was right. They'd hit a dead end. Sam was sure they had the right man, he felt it in his very bones, but without evidence, real, hard, irrefutable evidence, Dubray was going to walk. He resisted the urge to slam his head repeatedly into the wall. Luke could have told him all of this over the phone, but Sam had needed to see it for himself. Now he had and it still didn't seem real.

They'd been so certain. When he'd left the station Tuesday, Sam had been so confident that they would be picking Dubray up in a matter of days and booking him for four counts of first degree murder. Instead, the DNA that was supposed to seal their case had shattered it into a million jagged pieces, all too small to fasten back together into anything resembling a conviction.

There had to be something they'd missed. He straightened up and walked over to the white board where Luke had tacked up their evidence.  A piece of paper covered in Andy's writing caught his eye and for a moment Sam considered calling her. But he changed his mind. Sure another pair of eyes would be helpful, but the reasons he'd kept the news to himself were still reasons. He had two days before she was back on shift. If he came up empty after two days, that would be soon enough to tell her.

The board held no new information. Everything on that board pointed to Dubray. The crime scene photos, the pages of notes from interviews and witnesses, all of it said Dubray was the only one at all crime scene. Which meant one of two things, either the cases were not related, or they'd missed something. Sam refused to believe that they just might not have any evidence.  The crime scene unit had swept the park for hours after Natalie Frances' body was found, there had to be something. Some little, seemingly insignificant piece they'd overlooked when they found Dubray. It was there, Sam just needed to find it.

He picked up the Frances file. The first page was a copy of the DNA results. Sam stared at it for a moment, brow furrowed. "Callaghan?"

"Yeah?" Luke looked up.

"We had DNA from three scenes and none of them matched Dubray..."

"What's your point?"

"Did they match each other?"

One corner of Luke's mouth quirked in an almost smile as he shuffled through the papers on his desk until he found the paper he was looking for. "They didn't do a cross comparison the first time, but I asked them to yesterday. It looks like we have two completely different sets of DNA from evidence." He checked the numbers on the sheet against his notes, "The Frances case sample does not match the earlier samples."

 "So, either Dubray switched partners..."

"Or they're not connected." Luke finished for him. "Frank will be disappointed."

Sam cocked his head.

"A serial murderer responsible for as many as ten victims, if we brought him in it would be huge for fifteen division."

Sam nodded his acknowledgement, already shifting his focus back to the file in his hand. Keeping the Staff Sergeant and the Commissionaire and the Mayor happy was all part of the job, but it was one part Sam had no real interest in. Another reason he would probably never make detective. He was much  more focused on the day to day realities of the job than the politics of power. Sam would take a UC job any day over Frank's position.

He flipped past the DNA results and found the coroner's report. Knowing that the DNA on Natalie's file didn't match the other victims meant that, for the moment, her case should be treated as a single occurrence. Unfortunately, that would not make it easier to solve, if anything, it would probably make it harder.

Luke's phone rang shrilly and after a sort conversation, he stood and grabbed his coat. "I've got a case, let me know if you come up with anything."

Sam nodded, "Will do."

"Thanks." He paused at the door, "Don't stay here too long or Frank's already going to have my head for bringing you in on overtime."

Sam chuckled. It was a given that most of them worked a fair amount of overtime. It was part of the job. It would be impractical to expect them to finish every day half an hour before they were off shift so they could stay caught up on paper work and avoid overtime. It was the same at most divisions, but  that didn't mean the budget was any more forgiving.

When Luke left, Sam took the Frances file to the copy room and made a second copy of it for himself before returning the originals to Luke's office.  If he was going to be working alone it may as well be in the comfort of his house.

o o o

Andy hung the white dress up at the back of her closet, running her fingers over the soft fabric. It really was beautiful. Shame she may never get to wear the other dress she'd bought that day. Things had gone so well Thursday night, but by this afternoon it seemed like Sam was trying to forget the night before had even happened. He'd been quiet almost the entire drive back to Toronto. She'd asked him what was wrong, but all he'd been willing to say was that it was 'about a case' and 'don't worry about it.'

"Don't worry," She scoffed. He may as well have asked her to fly home. The latter would have been easier than trying to drown the obnoxious voice in her head telling her he was already regretting the night before, that when she asked him about it he would tell her it 'was what it was' and expect them to go back to being partners, friends, as if nothing more had ever existed. Her stomach churned at the thought.

They couldn't go back. Not again. She couldn't go back to working beside him day after day pretending she didn't know what his lips felt like against her own; pretending she didn't wake up in the night hot and wet, thinking of his hands on her skin. When she closed her eyes she could still see his hungry gaze as he pressed her against the guest room door. However he felt in the light of day, he'd wanted her last night.  No, they couldn't go back. She just had to find a way to make sure they kept moving forward. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Andy pulled her coat tightly around her, blocking out the evening chill. She'd almost worn the third date dress, but changed her mind, opting instead for more practical leggings and a t-shirt buried under her warmest sweater and a windproof jacket. She didn't want to look like she was expecting anything. Even if she'd worn her nicest bra and panties underneath her casual clothes and thrown a box of condoms in her purse. It never hurt to be prepared.

It had taken her all weekend to work up the courage to come, and now that she was here the butterflies in her stomach were waging an all out war. She'd almost turned back twice, but tomorrow they were back on shift and she couldn't shake the feeling that if she didn't make her move now, they'd be back at square one. She could see light filtering from the back of Sam's place and hoped that meant he was home. Taking a deep breath she knocked.

Sam sat in the kitchen, a cup of cold coffee set untouched by his left hand, the table top was strewn with papers. The pad of paper under his hand was covered in notes, most of them ending in question marks. He'd been going through the case file sheet by sheet for the better part of two days and still all he had were more questions.

It didn't make sense.

Colin Dubray fit the profile. A loner, excited by death, obsessed with law enforcement, and a patchy employment history. He was at all the scenes. Always involved in the investigation in some peripheral manner, always with the same story. It couldn't be a coincidence. And yet, the DNA evidence said Dubray hadn't touched her. Worse than that, there was no one else to blame.

It took a moment for his brain to recognize the knock and about three minutes to gather up the case file, carefully preserving the stacks he'd created,  and shove it in a seldom used kitchen drawer. There was a chance whoever was knocking was a school kid selling chocolates or a Jehovah's Witness offering to save his soul, but this time of night it wasn't likely. He wasn't taking a chance. It wasn't exactly against regulations to bring work home, but it would raise questions Sam would rather stayed buried.

There was no one on his front step when he finally opened the door. Sam stepped outside, the cement was frigid under his bare feet and he wished momentarily he'd put on socks. He looked down the street, catching sight of Andy as she walked back the way she'd come. "Andy?" he called after her, raising his voice so she'd be sure to hear.

She stopped and turned, a smile on her beautiful face. For a moment Sam forgot about dead bodies and DNA evidence. He didn't know why she was here, he was just happy she was. It had only been two days since he'd dropped her off at her apartment, but he'd missed her. He'd picked up the phone to call her more than once, each time putting it back down when he realized he had nothing to say. If he saw her, he would have to tell her, and he wanted to keep her out of it for as long as possible. Not that it would be possible for long.

They'd be back to work tomorrow and she would find out then what he'd known since Friday, but still refused to accept; that whoever killed Natalie Frances was going to get away with it. He'd been through the file three times. He's read and reread her notes, his, Callaghan's; stared at crime scene photos until his eyes burned; and racked his brain for hours. Still, he came up empty. If Dubray was in on it, his accomplice had done all the dirty work  and hadn't stuck around long enough for anyone to notice.

He'd seen this before. Too many times before. Cases where no matter the skill of the officers involved, there simply wasn't enough evidence. Cases where all you could do was build an idea of who the perpetrator was, and wait for him to strike again. Cases that made Sam glad he wasn't a detective and didn't have to explain to the white shirts why the case had gone cold. So far, Andy and her fellow rookies had been lucky. They'd solved cases left and right, collaring their share of felons and usually collecting enough evidence in the process to keep the detectives and the prosecutor happy. He knew she wouldn't take this loss well.

"Hi," Andy's voice from the bottom of the steps broke into Sam's thoughts.

Sam smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow."

Something like nervousness flitted across Andy's face and she paused halfway up the stairs, "I can go."

"No." Sam took an involuntary step towards her.

Her lips quirked, one corner lifting despite her attempt to hide a Cheshire cat grin as she mounted the rest of the stairs. Any doubts she'd had about Sam's feelings for her since Friday were erased in that moment. Whatever had been holding his attention on Friday, she had it now.

She paused in front of him. The porch was narrow and their bodies almost touched. She could feel his hot breath against her forehead. She closed the distance to press her lips to his. She meant it to be quick, a reminder of Thursday night, nothing more. She'd come here to talk. 

His lips were soft and warm. She pulled back, head spinning, pulse pounding. _Talk. We need to talk._ She told herself sternly as she moved to step past him into the house.

She made it less than one step. Sam's hand on her arm stopped her, drawing her back in for another kiss, slow and filled with promise. Andy's hands slid up his chest and twined around his neck as she pressed her body against his. Talking was overrated.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, tracing light patterns over her skin.

It was Andy who pulled back first, drawing a lungful of cold air with a gasp. It was a moment before she found her voice to say, "Invite me in?"

"Come on in," Sam kept one hand on her back, following her through the door, letting it close behind him. Her skin was warm, despite the cold evening and he was loathe to break contact for the brief moment it took to slide the deadbolt into place.

Andy shed her coat and toed off her boots, hanging her coat on a hook by the door as if she'd done it a thousand times before.

Sam pushed her boots to the side with his bare feet and closed the distance between them. He encircled her waist with both arms, once again seeking soft, bare skin beneath the hem of her shirt as he pulled her against him. Their lips met. He slid his hands up her back, pressing her tightly against his chest.

This time it was Andy who deepened the kiss. Her fingernails scraped lightly against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine, as her lips opened his and her tongue caressed the inside of his mouth. There was nothing slow or gentle about this kiss.  Andy locked both hands in his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp. He brought one hand up to knead her breast, pinching the taught nipple between his fingers until she squirmed and whimpered into his mouth. 

They broke apart only long enough for Sam to push Andy's T-shirt over her head and then his lips were back on hers.  She tugged at the bottom of his shirt impatiently, seeking his bare skin with her hands, pushing the cotton up as she went. Andy explored the planes of his chest with her palms pausing only to tweak his nipple. When her hands moved to push his shirt the rest of the way off he broke their kiss and lowered his mouth to her breasts.

Andy arched against him  and locked her hands into his hair again, pulling him closer. The lace of her bra was rough against his tongue as it darted out to wet the supple skin of her breast.  She groaned in protest when he removed his mouth  to move to the other breast.  He ran his tongue just above the line of her bra, his hands sliding behind her to release the clasp of her bra.

Sam sucked her nipple into his mouth, grazing it slightly with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. His hands slid down from her waist to cup her ass, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around him,. pressing her hot center against the hardening bulge in his jeans. He carried her ten steps to the living room and laid her back against the couch.

He trailed kisses down her throat, and over her breasts, sucking in the sweet flesh until she groaned and squirmed beneath him. Taking his time he placed open mouthed kisses over both of her breasts and across her abdomen, flicking his tongue against her flesh. He continued down her belly, until he reached the hem of her leggings. They were quickly discarded and he slid down so he was kneeling on the carpet and pressed a kiss on her inner thigh.

He sucked the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh into his mouth and bit down just hard enough to make her cry out. The combination of lips and teeth would leave a mark. He ran both hands over her thighs, stopping just short of her visibly damp panties.

"Sam..." she gasped, arching up towards him.

He ran two fingers over her damp center. She rocked against them, head thrown back in pleasure.  He hooked two fingers on each hand into her panties and pulled them down her legs. He stood for a moment, shedding his jeans and underwear before lowering himself over her.

Andy reached down between them and wrapped her hand around Sam's cock.  It was rock hard but the skin was softer than silk. She caressed it with her fingers, varying the pressure, learning by his groans what he liked.  When he gasped her name in a throaty voice she needed to hear every day for the rest of her life, she guided him to her wet, ready entrance.

His first  thrusts were slow and long. Torturous and incredible. He filled her completely and she could feel another orgasm building  even before he quickened his pace.  Andy locked her legs around him and pulled him into a searing kiss as he thrust into her, each stroke faster and deeper until they were both  slick with sweat and crying out in pleasure.

Andy pillowed her head against his chest. It rose and fell with each breath. She could hear the steady thump-thump of his heart, perfectly out of synch with her own. How easy it would be to stay here, to let the hypnotic thumping of their hearts lull her to sleep. Somehow Sam's home was unlike any of the other men she'd been with. She would have no trouble sleeping here. The realization that her protective guard, such a normal part of her dating MO, had been stripped away was thrilling, and terrifying. "I should go," she said abruptly. She needed space, needed to sort through the confused jumble of her thoughts. She rolled to her feet and began to collect her scattered clothing.

Sam watched with inscrutable dark eyes as she slipped on her tights and t-shirt. He wanted to pull her down beside him, tell her to stay, but the words refused to come. Instead, he sat up and reached for his jeans. "I'll drive you."

She almost refused, but he was already half dressed and she didn't really want to walk home in the frosty night. "Thanks."  

Five minutes later Sam unlocked the passenger door of his truck, holding it open for her. The silence between them felt strained with all the things that weren't being said. Chief in Sam's mind loomed the case. He should tell her. "Andy.. about tomorrow--"

"I don't think we should tell anyone." Andy jumped in before he could finish.

The rest of the words died on Sam's tongue. She was right of course, telling anyone at 15 this soon was just begging for trouble. Especially while they were working with Callaghan on the Frances murder, but still the sudden shift from telling Andy their case was ruined to hiding their... whatever this was, threw him.

Andy, uncomfortable with his silence explained in a hurried tone. "It's just, with Luke... and the case. I think it's better if we keep it to ourselves. At least for now."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."  

She climbed into the truck and Sam closed the door behind her. She was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Andy awoke at ten to six the next morning, irritable and groggy. The night before had not gone as planned. Instead of talking to Sam, making sure they were on the same page,  she'd thrown herself at him and then run off scared the moment it was over. Wait no she hadn't just run off, she'd all but told him she was ashamed to be seen with him, and _then_ she'd run off. And for what, so she could save face in front of Luke Callaghan? She slammed her hand against the chirping alarm clock and threw back the covers. Today was not going to go well, she could feel it already.

Grumbling to herself t entire time, Andy dressed, and plated her hair into a simple French braid. Breakfast consisted of three bites of lukewarm strawberry pop-tart and a swig of hot, bitter, black coffee. She made a mental note to buy milk on her way home. She didn’t actually remember finishing off the carton in her fridge, but it had been one of those weeks. By the time she arrive at fifteen division, with ten minutes to get into Uniform, her annoyance had escalated to a full on funk.

“Andy!”

Luke’s voice calling her from across the bullpen grated at her nerves. Andy took a deep breath as she turned, it wouldn’t do to bite his head off. He was her superior, and not that they were no longer “involved” she would probably actually get in trouble for it. She forced an almost smile, “morning, Luke.”

“You got a minute?” He held a blue folder between his hands, twisting it slightly while he waited for her answer.

Andy snuck a none-too-subtle glance at her watch, “Can it wait until after parade?”

“It’ll just take a minute,” he said, gesturing for her to enter his office. “It’s about the Frances case.”

For a brief moment, Andy's bad mood evaporated. A _lead_? “DNA results came back?”

He nodded, waiting until she entered his office before continuing. “They came back on Friday, but I didn’t see any point in ruining your weekend.”

“So he’s already in custody?”Andy asked, surprised. She felt like this was her case, hers and Sam’s, as much as it was Luke’s, she was annoyed he hadn’t bothered to even call them to say they were taking Dubray in. 

Luke shook his head.

Not giving him a chance to speak Andy rounded on him.  “You just figured, ‘what’s another two days?’” They should have arrested him the minute the results were in, weekend or not.  She'd never thought of Luke as sloppy.

“It wasn’t Dubray.”Luke said, giving her a look that clearly told her she was being an idiot.

Andy stopped dead. Disappointed disbelief overtaking even the surge of humiliation she felt for yelling at Luke over nothing. “But… he was _there_ for all of them, and you said yourself he gets off on this stuff.”

He shrugged. “DNA didn’t match.”

“So we have… nothing?” Andy leaned one shoulder against the wall. There was something about what Luke had said that seemed off, but it took her a minute to put her finger on it. “You said you got the results Friday?” She asked with forced calm when it dawned on her. _That_ was why Sam had been so weird on Friday, but why hadn’t he _told_ her? Her hands clenched unconsciously into fists at her side. Sam had some serious explaining to do.

“Yes,” Luke looked puzzled, “why?”

"Did you call Swarek?”

“Yes.”

“But not me.” She gave him a pointed look. “I don’t need you to protect me Luke.”

“Sorry,” Luke said in an unapologetic tone, “next time I’ll make sure I ruin your weekend too.”

Andy rolled her eyes. “Just treat me like you would any other officer. That’s all I want.” She turned to leave, but his next words stopped her in her tracks.

“And what about what I want?”

Andy turned, crossing her arms tightly, protectively, across her chest. There was a warmth in his gaze she wished she couldn’t see. Luke’s words hung in the air between them. His blue eyes were glued to her face, waiting for her response.

She was saved from the awkward moment by Noelle’s dry voice from the doorway, “McNally, you joining us for parade?”

Andy looked down at her watch. _Fuck_. She now had less than two minutes to get into her uniform. “Sorry,” she called over her shoulder to Luke as she hurried to the locker room. She wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, running out on him, or the desire to smack the soppy look off his face.

o o o

Artie's opened at seven. Sam was there by six fifty-five. He was a coffee guy, but he'd heard Andy talk about the amazing hot chocolate from Artie's more than once and he needed something special if he was going to make his point. Discreet he could be, if it was necessary, but that didn’t mean everything was going to be “normal” at the station. Sam didn’t like to think of himself as a possessive guy, but he was damn well going to made sure Luke Callaghan knew Andy was off the market. It was only fair really, Callaghan certainly hadn’t had any qualms about tell Sam to back off months earlier, not in so many words of course, Homicide detectives liked to consider themselves a subtle bunch.

 He ordered a large hot chocolate, extra hot, and a coffee for himself. It seemed to take forever for the teenage girl with the nose piercing behind the counter to brew the hot chocolate, he hoped it was worth it. The damn hot chocolate was going to make him late for parade. It was ten after eight when he finally exited the coffee shop. He slid behind the wheel, placed both cups in his cup holders, and pushed the speed limit all the way to the station.

He arrived with five minutes to spare, mercifully the lights had been in his favour. He scanned the bullpen for Andy. She usually liked to be early so he expected to see her in uniform, sitting at a desk with her fellow Rookies. She was nowhere to be seen. He made his way towards the dressing rooms, only to be almost bowled over by Andy as she emerged from Luke’s office. “Watch where you’re going,” he said with a laugh, stepping back, both hands raised to keep from spilling on her or himself.

“Sorry,” she flashed him an apologetic smile.

“Here,” he handed her the cup in his right hand.

“Artie’s?” Her eyes grew wide.

He shrugged as if it were no big deal, “you said it was good.”

“It’s the best.” She took a long sip, closing her eyes. “Completely perfect. Thank you.”

“McNally!’ Noelle’s voice came from across the room.

“Gotta go,” She said, flashing him another dazzling smile.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked over to where Oliver and Noelle were standing.

“Heard about your case,” Noelle said with a sympathetic smile. “Got any new leads?”

Sam shook his head. “Not yet.”

“So you and McNally were...”

Sam took a gulp of coffee, and pretended not to hear her. “How’s the wife?” He asked Oliver, deliberately avoiding Noelle’s gaze.

“Thinking of getting one yourself?” Shaw asked, managing to keep a straight face despite the merry twinkle in his eye.

“I thought I’d wait until yours kicks you out again and just take her.” Sam shot back.

Noelle laughed, “I didn’t think McNally liked to share.”

 Shaw shrugged, “I dunno, McNally’s clever. A wife to take care of the kids while she works, she might go for that.”

Noelle nodded along, “True, True. What is going on with that polygamy case anyway?”

“I think they’re appealing the decision... he might get lucky yet. Although...” Oliver tapped the side of Sam’s coffee cup, “I think they make you give up this stuff, so maybe not.”

Sam shook his head and took another swig of coffee. He could take their teasing, he knew they had the sense to dull it down around Luke and Andy, and it was nice to know his friends knew, even if he wasn’t about to officially confirm it.

Frank exited his office and crossed towards them. “Come on people, crime isn’t going to stop itself you know.”

 The officers followed their staff sergeant and took their places around the room for parade.

o o o

Sam watched as Luke held the door of his office open for Andy, gritting his teeth. He'd expected Frank to reassign them both. There were no leads, no work for a beat cop to do, it made sense. When Frank had announced in parade that McNally would be working with Callaghan on the Frances Case, Sam hadn't been able to keep the surprise off his face. What was Callaghan up to?

"You okay?" Peck's voice at Sam's elbow jarred him back to the present.

"What? yeah, fine."

Gail gave him an appraising look, "It's just... you've been glaring at Callaghan's office for five minutes. And you spilt coffee all over the counter."

Sam looked down, indeed he'd managed to overfill his cup and cover a third of the counter with coffee. He cursed under his breath and took the handful of napkins Gail held out for him. "Thanks."

"Anytime," She said with a bit of a chuckle, grabbing another handful of napkins and helping him clean up the mess. "The Frances case?"

"Yeah," Sam grabbed hold of the excuse. It wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough to the truth he knew Peck would never see through it.

"Were there any other leads?"

Sam shook his head, "Nope."

Gail threw away the lump of sodden napkins. "You driving, or am I?"

Sam tossed her the keys. His mind wasn't in it today. He cast a final suspicious glance at Callaghan's office before following Peck out to the cruiser.

o o o

"Do we have any new leads?" Andy asked, settling into a chair opposite Luke.

"Nothing." Luke handed her a thick brown folder, "I need you to go through the file again, anything strikes you as unusual or you find anything we dismissed before because it didn't fit Dubray, let me know."

Andy nodded, "Okay."

"I'm going to talk to her father again, just call me when you find something." His blue eyes held her gaze for several seconds longer than Andy was comfortable with.

She dropped her gaze, suddenly wishing she hadn't asked Sam to keep their relationship quiet. She wanted to ask Luke why he was questioning Mr. Frances again, and what exactly he was hoping to find, but she didn't want to prolong the conversation. She felt unbearably awkward as it was.

"See you in a few hours," Luke said, shrugging into his blazer.

When he was gone, Andy opened the file to the first page and began to read. Before long a dull ache started at the base of her skull. She'd read all of this a dozen times before. The familiar words swam on the page, becoming less clear with each rereading.

After two hours of scouring the file for _anything_ they might have missed the first time through, Andy threw down the file in frustration. There was _nothing_ there. Everything they had pointed to Dubray. It made no sense. 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

By four, hours of slamming her head against the impenetrable wall of evidence and getting nowhere combined with the tension that radiated from her body every time Luke entered the room had morphed Andy's mild headache into a nausea inducing, pain med defying migraine. She rubbed uselessly at her temples as she scanned the transcript of Luke's first interview with Dubray for the tenth time that day.

"You okay?" Luke's voice from the doorway brought her head up.

Too quickly. Andy couldn't hold back the wince. "Fine," she lied.

His blue eyes scanned her appraisingly. "Did you take anything for the headache?"

"Took a couple Tylenol an hour ago," Andy admitted.

Luke nodded, crossing the room so he was standing at her left shoulder. "You should go home, I don't think we're going to find anything today."

"I'm fine." Andy returned to her reading. The words swam before her tired eyes.

"You're stubborn," Luke said, his voice warm. "Come on, let me drive you home."

"No," Andy shook her head, wincing as another dart of pain shot through her occipital lobe, "I'll be fine. I'm off shift in a couple hours and then I promise I'll go straight home to bed."  

"You're no use to me when you can't even focus on the page, Andy." Luke placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You need to take some Advil and sleep it off," he reached down and plucked the file from the desk, closing it, "and you're in no condition to walk."

Andy would have loved to argue with him, but the pain threatening to splatter her brains all over the office walls if she didn't relieve the pressure wasn't going to ease up anytime soon. "okay," she agreed after a moment of inner struggle. She knew Sam was still on shift for another two hours and she really didn't think she would last that long. "Thanks."

Luke smiled, "do you need anything from your locker?"

"No," Andy said. She had her keys on her and everything else would wait until tomorrow.

"Good. Let's go." He reached for her arm, but stopped just short of touching her.

Andy stood slowly. The room swam for a moment before she was able to walk. She followed Luke mutely through the bull pen and out to the parking lot, taking very little notice of her surroundings. Luke was right, she needed a pair of Advil and a nap, and to never, never spend an entire day alone with her ex again.  It had been one thing when she, Sam and Luke had all been working the case, but when Frank pulled Sam and left her alone with Luke it suddenly felt like the old days, when she and Luke were and item and he'd 'borrowed' her from Swarek for an assignment more to have her around than because she's deserved it. The warm tone, piercing glances and even the care he was taking of her now were something she knew only from the Luke she'd dated, never from a detective to an officer.

A cruiser pulled into the lot just as she was sliding into the passenger seat of Luke's car. Andy caught Sam's dark eyes watching her from the driver's seat of the cruiser. She felt awkward for a moment, like a kid caught with one hand in the cookie jar. _It's not what it looks like_ she wanted to say, but then the cruiser pulled into its space and Luke started the engine and they were off. She closed her eyes against the moving scenery and told the nagging voice in her head that didn't want to shut up that she would tell Sam tomorrow.

Luke was mercifully silent for the entire drive. It wasn't until he pulled up in front of her place that he spoke. "Can I walk you up?" He was looking at her again with that soft, warm look he'd had that morning when he'd asked _what about what I want?_ and sent her fleeing in the opposite direction.

Andy dropped her eyes, she didn't want to see the warmth in his gaze. It was harder to deny it when it was right in front of her. "I'm just going to go to sleep." She said, deflecting his offer. "Thanks for the ride."

Before she could escape the car, Luke covered one of her hands with his. "Can we talk? I know today isn't a good day. But maybe tomorrow after shift?"

Silence hung awkwardly in the car for several seconds before Andy found her voice. "I don't think that's a good idea." She opened the door before Luke had a chance to speak. "Thanks again," she shut the door and turned away. moving as quickly as her throbbing temples would allow.

Three Advil and a two hours later, Andy woke with a wrenching feeling of guilt, but blessedly headache free. Her sleep had been plagued by eyes, Luke's blue and warm with unspoken feelings she'd thought were long buried, and Sam's dark, questioning, hurt staring at her through the windshield of a police cruiser, asking her why she was taking rides from her ex, why she didn't want to tell anyone about them, why she was stringing him along. Questions Andy wasn't sure she could answer. Somehow in twenty four hours she'd managed to turn a beautiful night into a horribly confused mess.

Groaning, Andy rolled out of bed. She stood slowly, testing out the movement to make sure it wouldn't set her head to aching again. When standing worked, she stripped out of her uniform and pulled on something more comfortable.  One thing she was certain of, she needed to speak to Sam.

She knew she hadn't done anything wrong today. Accepting a ride from an ex boyfriend wasn't cheating. But she couldn't shake the puzzled glance Sam had shot her in the parking lot from her brain or the promise she'd made to herself that she would explain later. Checking the clock to make sure it wasn't too late, she grabbed keys and a jacket and headed out into the October night.

Sam's place wasn't far from her own. In less than half an hour she was standing across the street. His truck was parked out front, and she stood for a moment, staring at it, in hopeless indecision. She should have called, but calling now seemed ridiculous. Taking a deep breath for courage, she crossed the street, mounted his front steps, and knocked.

o o o

For the third time since he'd learned Dubray's DNA didn't match that found at the Frances murder scene, Sam spent the evening sipping coffee and pouring over the case file. In a way, puzzling over the case was a nice break after a day half spent obsessing over why Luke Callaghan had requested Andy remain on his service. Sam didn't like to think of himself as jealous, but he knew his mind hadn't been on the job all day, and that this was mostly due to the many scenarios running through his head all day as to what Luke was trying to win Andy back, there was little doubt in Sam's mind that winning Andy back was Callaghan's end goal, he just had no idea how the detective would go about it, or if he would be successful. Sam would have to be an idiot not to realize that the timing of his and Andy's hook up placed their relationship soundly in rebound territory, but he'd hoped she wanted more than just a distraction.

Annoyed with his brain's inability to focus on the case, Sam put the case file back into a drawer in his kitchen and carried his coffee into the living area. He was still convinced Dubray had a partner, but had yet been able to find any sort of proof in the evidence. He switched on the TV, hoping that would distract his mind.

Andy's knock came at the beginning of an ad break, Sam stood and walked to the door, glancing out the window to see who it was. When he saw Andy's familiar form on his porch he smiled. Two nights in a row, this was definitely a good sign.

He opened the door.

"Hi," Andy said before he could say a word. "I'm sorry, I should have called."

Sam smiled and held out one hand, indicating she should enter. "Don't worry about it, you didn't interrupt anything." He held his hand out to take her jacket. "Coffee? Beer?"

"Coffee," She rubbed her hands together. "It's freezing out there." 

In the kitchen Sam dumped out his half empty cup of coffee and rinsed out his coffee pot. His hands moved through the motions of starting a new pot brewing with little conscious thought, allowing his mind to focus on Andy. She'd only been in his kitchen once before. Months ago, when they'd sat in the near dark drinking warm beer and she'd cried over the first man she'd killed. He could hardly believe the difference just a few months had made. Last time she'd arrive unannounced at his door they'd barely made it past the entry way.

The coffee maker had spit out three quarters of a pot of coffee. Sam busied himself pouring two mugs, adding milk to hers, sugar to his before setting them on the table.  He took the chair across from her, cradling his mug between both hands.

Andy gave him a appraising look, "I had lunch with my dad, on the weekend, he said to tell you his car is running perfectly by the way."

"His fuel filter was clogged, I replaced it." He explained, as if it were no big deal.

She flushed, looking flustered as she always did when the subject of Tommy came up. "He shouldn't have--"

"I offered." Sam interrupted, placing a hand over hers on the table. "Don't worry about it."

Andy's eyes were warm on his face, "Thank you." She turned over the hand he held and traced absent minded patterns against his palm.

"Anytime."  He took a gulp of hot coffee, finishing off the mug full in record time.

Andy seemed to have the same idea. She stood, empty mug in hand, "Dishwasher?"

He shook his head, "just put it in the sink. I'll deal with it later."

She circled the table and reached for his mug as well, but Sam intercepted, pulling her into his lap. She let out a little shriek but didn't fight him. Instead she placed her mug on the table and leaned into his embrace.

Andy placed one hand on Sam's cheek, caressing the slight stubble there with the pad of her thumb and leaned forward. The first kiss was light, soft and quick, testing the waters. Andy let her eyes flutter closed as she kissed him again, this time his lips returned the pressure and he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head.

Sam used both hands on her hips to guide her onto his lap. She straddled his body and slid one hand into his hair. It was silky soft to the touch as she ran her fingers up over his scalp, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips. She lowered her head and placed an open mouthed kiss on his neck.

His head fell backwards, giving her full access to the tender flesh of his throat. He gasped as she added teeth to the mix.  His hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer.

She worked her way slowly up from his collarbone, trailing kisses and light nips along his warm skin until she reached his mouth. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, it tasted like coffee. He opened his mouth to her and she deepened the kiss. 

Sam let her control the pace, matching her intensity without pushing for more. When she finally broke away, panting, it was his turn. Keeping her anchored against him with one hand, he brought the other around between them. He traced small circles over her stomach, gradually moving upwards until his fingers grazed the underside of her lace bra. Here he hesitated. This was Andy, his partner, the woman he'd been more or less in love with for almost two years. As much as he tried to tell himself they'd done this before, his heart thudded nervously against his ribs. 

Sensing his hesitation, Andy pulled back so she could look him in the eye, "Sam?"

He let the hand resting against her bare skin drop until it rested on her jean clad thigh.  "If we do this.. it'll change things."

Andy nodded, "I know. " She pressed her lips against the sensitive skin of his jaw, right below his ear. "I want things to change."

"Luke...?" Sam couldn't find the words to form the question, but he had to know.

  "I don't want Luke," Andy said against his skin, "I want you."

For a moment it seemed like the world stopped around Sam. And then he was kissing her. There was nothing slow or gentle about this kiss.  Andy locked both hands in his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp. He brought one hand up to knead her breast, pinching the taught nipple between his fingers until she squirmed and whimpered into his mouth. 

They broke apart only long enough for Sam to push Andy's T-shirt over her head and then his lips were back on hers. Andy slid her hands beneath his shirt, exploring the planes of his chest with her palms pausing only to tweak his nipple. When her hands moved to push his shirt off he broke their kiss and lowered his mouth to her breasts.

Andy arched against him, grinding her pelvis against his  and locking her hands into his hair again, pulling him closer. The lace of her bra was rough against his tongue as it darted out to wet the supple skin of her breast.  She groaned in protest when he removed his mouth  to move to the other breast.  He ran his tongue just above the line of her bra and she ground against him again in wanton pleasure. With one hand he released the clasp of her bra. Smiling against her skin he used his nose to nudge the strap off her shoulder. She leaned back just enough to slide the bra fully off and add it to the pile of clothes beside the chair. 

Sam sucked her nipple into his mouth, grazing it slightly with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. His hands slid down from her waist to cup her ass, readjusting the angle of her pelvis so she could feel his erection. 

Andy rocked against him, losing herself in the wonderful feeling of his hot mouth on her breast, his strong hands on her ass and the pressure of his straining penis against her, hot even through the fabric that still separated them.

With one hand he freed her fly and in a single motion slipped his thumb between them, finding her clit and circling it with steadily increasing pressure until she thought she might die if he stopped. Her hips thrust erratically into him as the waves of her first orgasm stole all semblance of control. "Sam!" she cried to the ceiling, letting her head fall back in complete abandon. 

When she could once again control her movements, Andy busied herself with Sam's fly, not an easy task with his lips on her throat, his hands running over the bare skin of her back, but at last she was able to free the stubborn n buttons. Before she could run her fingers over his silken length, Sam stood, supporting her weight with one hand on her ass and one on her back.  Holding her against him he carried her into his bedroom, finally setting her down next to the bed.

They both kicked free of their jeans and underwear before falling back against the soft cotton comforter.  Andy reached down between them and wrapped her hand around Sam's cock.  It was rock hard but the skin was softer than silk. She caressed it with her fingers, varying the pressure, learning by his groans what he liked.  When he gasped her name in a throaty voice she needed to hear every day for the rest of her life, She guided him to her wet, ready entrance.

His first  thrusts were slow and long. Torturous and incredible. He filled her completely and she could feel another orgasm building  even before he quickened his pace.  Andy locked her legs around him and pulled him into a searing kiss as he thrust into her, each stroke faster and deeper until they were both  slick with sweat and crying out in pleasure. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

It was still dark when Andy woke and it took her a moment to get her bearings. She'd rolled away from Sam in her sleep, but one of his arms was loosely slung over her. She moved to try and see the time on his alarm clock, but his arm tightened around her, holding her in place.

He mumbled something incoherent, and pulled her closer.

Andy let him. Sam's bed was warm and his arm around her felt secure instead of suffocating. She rolled towards him, propping her head up on one hand so she could see the clock over his shoulder without disturbing his sleep. The bright green numbers read 5:55, telling her she had twenty minutes before the alarm would sound.

She studied Sam's face silently for a moment, tracing the familiar lines with her eyes. He wasn't exactly handsome, not like Luke had been. With twenty hours worth of stubble on his face he looked like the kind of guy you didn't want to be on the wrong side of, even when he was sleeping. What was it Gail had said? "Kind of adorable, in a rough trade sort of way." It wasn't a bad description.

Andy's eyes wandered down, taking in his well muscled arms and strong chest. Classically handsome he was not, but he took good care of himself and it showed. She dropped her eyes lower, her lips tilting up in the beginnings of a mischievous grin.

Moving slowly, carefully, so he wouldn't wake, Andy leaned over and pressed a soft, open  mouthed kiss to the stubbly skin of Sam's jaw. He let out a gentle exhalation, but didn't stir. Growing bolder, Andy trailed kisses down his neck, pausing to suck the skin over his clavicle before pulling the sheet down to expose the stiff peaks of his nipples.

She teased one and then the other with the tip of her tongue. Sam moaned and shifted beneath her, but when she looked up, his eyes remained closed and his breathing deep and even.

Andy continued downwards, licking and kissing over Sam's abs, pulling the sheet down as she went. When she reached his waist, she pushed the sheet down to his knees. She ran her tongue down the inside of one thigh, tracing a circular pattern over his soft skin before turning her attention to his half-hard cock.

Keeping her eyes trained on his face, Andy ran her fingers over the tip. Again, he moved, but didn't wake. Moistening her hand with her mouth, Andy wrapped her fingers around him and slid from base to tip, varying pressure until she found the perfect amount of force. When she found the pressure that made his harden further, she lay against the bed between his legs, lowered her head and ran her tongue over his tip.

Sam moaned and arched his hips towards her.  

_It was a familiar dream. Sam lay flat on his back, Andy astride him. His hard cock clutched tightly in her hot, wet pussy. He bare breasts bounced lightly as she rocked back and forth seeking her pleasure. Occasionally one of her hands crept slowly up to tweak an erect nipple before dropping to brace her weight against the bed behind her. Sam's own hands were of no use, tied tightly to the headboard. Somehow in this dream his head board was always a simple metal frame rather than the solid block of wood it was in waking hours. His hands were useless, but it didn't matter. This was a spectator sport._

Relaxing her throat, Andy slowly took Sam's cock into her mouth, caressing the underside with her tongue. She couldn't take his entire length in her mouth, not at that angle, instead she worked one hand over the base of his shaft while her lips and tongue worked the rest. He grew harder, filling her mouth with hot flesh.

 _The familiar dream shifted into something new. His hands were free and instead of straddling him, Andy was between his legs. His cock was in her mouth and she was doing the most exquisite things to his sensitive tip with her tongue. She fondled his testicles with one hand and then ran a knuckle over the sensitive skin just behind them. Sam's hips thrust in response_ and he opened his eyes. __

Andy slid his cock out of her mouth slowly, caressing the tip with her tongue before releasing it. She raised her eyes and met his half asleep, lust filled gaze with a smile. Holding his eyes she licked the tip of his cock.

"Andy," he groaned, reaching for her.

Lips curved in a self satisfied smile, Andy slid his hardness back into her mouth until she her throat convulsed in an involuntary gag. Once again she ran her knuckle over the sensitive spot behind his testicles, this time when he thrust she moved with him, taking his tip into her throat. She let out an appreciative hum, sending vibrations through his sensitive flesh.

Sam made an inarticulate noise of pleasure. He could feel the telltale tightening in his scrotum as her tongue and hands stroked his cock. It didn't take long for him to find his release, spilling into her mouth.

Never breaking eye contact, Andy released him slowly from her mouth and swallowed. She crawled up his body slowly, brushing her breasts against his stomach and chest. "Good morning," She whispered against his lips before taking them with her own.

The alarm went off, telling them with its shrill beep that they had forty minutes to get out the door if they didn't want to be late for parade. Sam slapped the off button impatiently with one hand. "Good morning," he leaned in for another kiss. This time Andy rolled on her back and let Sam take control.

He deepened the kiss as his hands skated over her body. With feather light touches he caressed her breasts and abdomen before slipped two fingers into the thatch of curls between her legs. She was wet already and his fingers slipped into her easily.

Andy rocked her hips against his hand to increase the stimulation against her clit.

Sam dropped his head to her breasts, drawing one peaked nipple into his mouth. He pressed it with his lips almost to the point of pain and Andy squirmed beneath him.

She reached down one hand between them, her fingers finding her clit. She moved her hand in time with his and before long her body tensed in orgasm. She gasped and threw her head back as the orgasm crashed over her.

Sam kissed her softly and raised his head to glance at the alarm clock. They had 30 minutes. He thought of the rasher of bacon in his fridge and opened his mouth to offer her breakfast when he caught sight of her crumpled jeans. A clear image of her shirt falling to his kitchen floor flitted through his mind. The same shirt she'd been wearing the morning before, when she'd almost run him over on the way out of Callaghan's office. If she showed up in that, they would not remain a secret for long. Not that he minded anyone knowing, but Andy had made it perfectly clear she wanted their relationship kept secret. "Give me ten minutes and I'll drive you home so you can change." He said instead, sitting up.

Andy's dark eyes, narrowed in confusion, followed him as he walked across the room.  When he shut the bathroom door behind him, she reached for her clothes.  They really needed to have a talk, but when she looked at the clock and realized she had less than half an hour to get home, change and get to the station, she realized talking would have to wait.

o o o

“I can’t believe Luke threw us off the case.”Andy threw herself onto one of Sam’s dining room chairs, a bottle of beer already clutched in one hand.

“There were no new leads,” Sam said, not for the first time. “What did you expect him to do?”

They’d learned at parade that neither Sam nor Andy would be continuing with the Frances case. With the negative DNA test they were at square one, and Frank wasn’t willing to spare two of his cops on the street to chase empty leads. Andy had been ranting about it ever since they got off shift. For all Sam knew she’d been ranting all shift as well, but she’d been paired with Diaz, so he hadn’t had to hear it.

“He could have kept one of us, or given us one more day to look for leads.” Andy grumbled.

Sam snuck a glance at the drawer where he’s stashed the unauthorized copy of the Frances file. He felt like a hypocrite for not telling her, but for all she was pissed off, Andy was a rule follower. She would make him tell Frank, and then it would really be over. “Callaghan’s a good detective, they’ll get him eventually.”

Andy snorted into her beer. “Right, how long had Luke been working on the Zoe Martinelli case?”

“Three years.” Sam admitted.

Andy grumbled something Sam didn’t catch, but it didn’t sound happy.

“We can’t solve them all.” Sam said, killing the heat and removing the pot of rice from the stove. He fluffed it with a fork o make sure it was done before switching off the oven and pulling out the chicken. “Here,” He handed Andy a plate. “Eat something before you finish all my beer. Trust me, working hung over is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Andy smiled, and downed the rest of her second beer in a single swallow before taking the plate. “Thanks.”

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed them each another beer from his fridge. Dinner was simple, chicken, rice and broccoli, but he knew it was more than Andy usually had. He’d seen her eating salad in a bag more times than he could count in the last year and new from overheard conversations that it was usually what she had after work as well.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Andy looked up at him, and inscrutable look on her face and asked, "What are we doing, Sam?".

"Eating chicken?" He gave her a concerned look.

She glared, "You, me, us... Is it just sex and chicken?"

Sam regarded her with serious eyes, "I don't know." He answered honestly. He wanted more than just sex from her, but the sad fact was that he'd wanted her long enough he would take whatever she offered and endeavour to be happy with it. He wasn't proud of it, but there it was. He was in love with her, and he had no idea if she saw him as anything but a convenient fuck.

"Well," Andy toyed with the bottle, unwilling to meet his gaze, "are we seeing other people?"

"I'm not," Sam considered her for a moment before asking, "Are you?"

She shook her head. The idea of seeing anyone else was laughable. Despite everything they're been through, or perhaps because of it, she trusted Sam more than anyone else she'd ever known. He was always there, in the background, ready to step in when she needed him, but willing to let her work things out on her own too. Most men she'd dated, including Luke, had seen her independence as something to be tolerated, or overcome. Sam trusted her instincts and wanted her to succeed on her own merits."No, and I don't want to."

 “Okay.” Sam watched her for several seconds, but Andy still didn't look up. Despite her words, he couldn't help thinking she was hiding something. There was a furtive quality to her bowed head and restless fingers. She really was an appalling liar. "What is it?"

"I think I should tell Luke." She said, meeting his eyes at last.

Sam was surprised, but he covered it quickly. He'd been braced to hear any number of things, but a desire to go public was not one of them. Surprise was quickly followed by relief and then concern. Why did she want to tell Luke _now_? The day before she had been content to work with Callaghan without saying a word, and today she was overcome with a desire to tell him about it. "Did he do something?"

Andy's brown eyes were filled with guilt. "He wanted to talk..." She shrugged. "I don't want to lead him on."

Sam snorted at that. As far as Sam was concerned, Callaghan could use a little of his own medicine. He'd been around long enough to see Luke Callaghan string along more than one pretty young rookie for a few months until another came along. Though he had to admit, the detective had seemed truly serious about Andy. He'd certainly kept her around much longer than any of his other rookies.

"Tracy already knows, and once I tell Luke, the whole division will probably know." Andy chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We're not going to be partners anymore are we?"

Sam circled the table. "No. " He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek.

Turning her head, Andy kissed his palm. "But you'll be there..." She said it slowly, as if she were trying to reassure herself of something.

"I'll be there when it matters. Always." He said pressing his lips against hers and ignoring the voice in his head reminding him he hadn't always been there. Not for Andy, and definitely not for Sarah.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

"So, Christmas with the family, eh?"

Andy cradled her head in both hands. "Oh God, I know... but I couldn't say no."

Tracy laughed. "What's the big deal? You've been there before, haven't you?"

Andy surfaced long enough to take a swig of wine and glare at her friend. "It's different."

Tracy raised an eyebrow. "Because you're the girlfriend?"

"Yes." Andy admitted. It sounded to silly when Tracy said it aloud. She and Sam had been dating openly for almost six weeks and things couldn't have been going better. He was still _Sam_. He still made his way through the world on a baffling blend of brawn and brains, following no rules but his own. There were times when she wanted to smack him, and times when she wanted to echo Sarah's desire to sit him behind a desk for the rest of his career where his love of danger was unlikely to get him killed. But she was happy.

The only thing that would have made life perfect, was if she and Sam had been able to remain partners. She understood why Frank didn't want them working together. Their work was dangerous. Being killed or injured was a reality they faced down more often than most. She knew herself well enough to know she wouldn't be able to act rationally if Sam was hurt while they were out together. She'd be as likely to kill the suspect as arrest him or her, or worse, let them escape because she was more concerned with making sure Sam was alright than with making the arrest. It had happened once before, in her early days as a rookie, long before she'd known Sam... loved him... now she knew she would stop to check on him every time, no matter how many DVD players the perpetrator stole.

She missed him most on the days she was paired with Gail. Despite the camaraderie they'd found weeks earlier when Andy had enlisted Gail's help finding an outfit for Sam's birthday, they were far from friends. Still, despite the occasional wistful thought of their days as partners, Andy wouldn't trade what they had now for what they had lost. Sam was considerate and occasionally sweet, and the sex was fantastic. When he'd asked her to spend Christmas with his family she'd said yes immediately, only realizing the next day what she'd gotten herself into. "Sarah's kids will be there."

Tracy gave her a strange look."You're great with kids."

"With your kid maybe," Andy said, "Sarah is really over protective... what if I get them something totally inappropriate."

"Ask Sam."

"I did. He was no help." He'd been less than no help actually. When he told her his usual practice of sending money to Sarah and letting her buy, and the reason for it, she'd gone from unsure to extremely nervous about what to get them.  The idea of not buying the kids something hadn't even crossed her mind. As far as she was concerned, Christmas was for the kids, she wasn't about to show up and meet them empty handed.

Tracy considered this for a moment. "Well, no guns, obviously... "

"I never should have agreed to go." Andy groaned.

Tracy rolled her eyes. "Your boyfriend's sister invited you to Christmas. It's sweet. So calm down and enjoy it."  

"Easy for you to say," Andy drained her glass, and with a sassy smile added, "Jerry's family is dead."  

"Real nice, Andy" Tracy refilled both their wine glasses. "What are you getting Sam?"

"A bottle of single malt, 16 year old Lagavulin."

Tracy whistled, "Sounds expensive."

Andy shrugged. In truth the scotch had set her back more than she'd wanted to spend. But Sam was a man of simple tastes and she'd been at an utter loss what to get him until she'd seen the bottle. Tommy had never bothered with the good stuff, at least not in the years Andy could remember what he was drinking, but  she'd managed to learn a thing or two about alcohol in the many hours she'd spent pulling him away from it. She knew it was worth the price.

She'd taken care of Sarah and Ed's gift as well, a nice bottle of merlot and a gift certificate. It was only a little gift for each of their children that was completely defeating her. She'd bought gifts for kids before, but only Leo, and he was completely different. Any kid that could entertain himself for an entire day with nothing more than a cardboard box was easy to impress. She'd already ruled out action figures and movies because she didn't know what Sarah allowed her kids to play with. The same problem with video games or books. Which left clothes (impossible to know what size to get) and stuffed toys (not exactly fit for a ten year old).

"What about a board game?" Tracy interrupted Andy's silent musing. "Leo loves it when we play Trouble or Sorry. He doesn't quite get Monopoly yet, he refuses to buy the pink and purple spaces because they're 'girlie'."

Tracy smiled as she talked and Andy couldn't help but smile along with her. She had fond memories of playing cards with her dad, years ago, right after her mother left, before he took to heavy drinking. Tommy had taught her to play rummy and honeymoon whist and crib, and eventually poker. The evenings he had off and spent at home playing cars with her were some of her best memories of that time. "You're a genius, Trace."

"True."

Both women laughed and for the rest of the night the conversation flowed smoothly. Andy still had her doubts about spending Christmas with Sam's family, but she buried them under laughter and wine.

o o o

"How're the kids?"

Ed smiled as he recounted the latest family news for his brother in law. When he had finished catching Sam up on Samantha's last day of dance class for the year, and Mitch's two goal game the previous Sunday, the conversation turned to Christmas. "You're back to work on the 26th?"

"Yes. I thought we'd come up on Christmas Eve for dinner, and then head back to Toronto on Christmas afternoon, miss the worst of the traffic if we can." Sam said.

Ed made sure Sarah was out of hearing distance before asking, "We?"

He could practically hear Sam's smile, "I thought I'd bring Andy, as a surprise."

"As payback, you mean." Ed said with a chuckle.

"That too." Sam agreed, "But I wanted her to meet the kids. Sarah won't mind?"

"Are you kidding? She cooks for an army every year, you know that. And my parents are in Florida this year, so it'll be a smaller party than usual even with Andy."

"Can you keep it a secret?"

"I will make up the guest bedroom myself and I won't say a word. Not even if she threatens me." Ed agreed.

"Thanks, Ed." Sam said. They chatted for another few minutes before hanging up.  

Sarah was sitting at the dining room table writing out a grocery list for Christmas dinner when Ed entered the room. "Was that Sam on the phone?"

"Yes, just confirming plans for Christmas."

"Is he bringing Andy?"

"I didn't ask." Ed said nonchalantly.

"Ed!" Sarah looked up from the list to glare at her husband.

"He knows she's welcome, you've told him at least a dozen times." Ed planted a kiss on her forehead as he walked past her chair.

"But--"

"Sam is a grown man, Sarah." Ed said, giving her a pointed look, "and besides, Andy has a family in Toronto. Maybe she's busy."

"I'm just..." Sarah twirled her pen distractedly, "worried about him."

"About Sam?" Ed clarified, taking a seat across from her.

"He's been so distracted lately. Every time I talk to him, it's like only half his mind is on the conversation."

"Could it be your baby brother doesn't find the blow by blow of Samantha's ballet recital quite as mesmerizing as you do?" Ed teased.

Sarah's expression said she wasn't in any mood to be teased. "I think I can tell the difference between distracted and  _bored_." She snapped.

"I'm sorry," Ed captured his wife's hand in his. "You're worried about Sam."

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you need?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I was hoping Andy could tell me... but if she isn't coming...."

"You could _call_ her." Ed squeezed her hand.

"I don't want to worry her."

Ed thought about this for a moment. He knew Sarah wouldn't rest easy until she had a plan, but he wasn't about to ruin Sam's surprise just to placate his wife's fears. He loved Sarah with all his heart, but she got these ideas into her head more often than any woman he'd ever met, and humouring them often increased her anxiety, or at least confirmed it, rather than helping. "How about this?" He offered, "If Andy doesn't come at Christmas, we will got to Toronto and visit them on the twenty-seventh and you can see for yourself that he's fine."

Sarah looked like she might fight him on it, but after a moment she nodded. "Okay." 


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"Your place or mine?" Sam asked, taking a seat beside where Andy was finishing up paperwork. Officially they'd been off shift for half an hour, but she still had a small pile of forms to file before she could leave. After that night, they were both off until Boxing Day.

She shook her head, but didn't look up. "You're on your own tonight, I need to wrap presents. Christmas is in three days and I haven't started."

Sam  gave her pony tail a playful tug. "Bring them to my place, I'll help."

Andy gave him a skeptical look. "Like you're helping now?"

He grinned unrepentantly. "I'll buy you dinner?"

"Make it Chinese and you have yourself a deal."

"Chinese it is." He grabbed a pen and gestured to her pile of paper. "Hand it over."

An hour later, after a quick stop at Andy's apartment to grab the gifts, Sam pulled up in front of his place. He grabbed one of Andy's bags out of the back of his truck and hauled it up the stairs, thankful he'd had all of his own presents wrapped by some high school kids fundraising for who-knew-what at the mall. Not only did they look nice, but it had saved him an hour at least of fighting with vibrant, friable paper covered in smiling snowmen.

Sam held the front door open for Andy and was rewarded with a brief brush of her lips against his own. He leaned into the kiss, but she danced away before he could free his hands from her packages to pull her close. "Tease," he muttered.

She grinned over her shoulder as she made her way to the kitchen. "I told you, I'm wrapping presents tonight."

"Oh, I see how it is." Sam teased, locking the front door before following her.   

"You were the one who asked me to come over." Andy took the bags from his hands.

She turned to put the bags on the table and Sam wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her against him. "You don't have to wrap _all_ night." He whispered against her skin.

A shiver raced up Andy's spine even as she tried to ignore his hand slipping up under the hem of her shirt. "Two hours."

His doubt-filled "Mmhmm" vibrated against her skin as he pressed slow, open mouthed kisses against her neck.

Unconsciously her head tilted to the side to give him better access. "One hour." She amended, a little breathlessly.

With one final kiss, Sam stepped back. "Thirty minutes," he said with a satisfied grin.

"Are you going to help?"

Sam eyed the stack of boxes currently taking up half his table and the two rolls of wrapping paper. Realizing if he wanted to do anything but watch her wrap gifts for the rest of  the night he would have to pitch in. He pulled Monopoly from one bag and chose a roll of bright red paper dotted with smiling cartoon Santas. Andy pulled the other roll of paper out along with tape and scissors.

They wrapped in silence for a few minutes before Sam broke the silence by switching the radio on to a Christmas station. One of the perks of their job, they didn't have to deal with piped in Christmas music on a daily basis, he actually couldn't remember the last time he'd listened to Christmas music away from Sarah's house.

He looked back at the present he was wrapping. It was not going well. The paper had cut on an angle and he'd realized halfway through he didn't have quite enough to get all the way around the box. He'd patched it together so the box was covered, but it was going to take a lot of ribbon to make it look half decent.

Andy hummed along to the carol, swaying a little as she tied a perfect bow on top of the first box she'd wrapped and began to curl the loose ends of ribbon with scissors. Sam came up behind her, waiting only until she set the scissors aside and turned to pick up another present before pulling her into his arms.

She laughed, her eyes sparkling with warm amusement.

Sam kissed her softly. She kissed him back, sliding her hands up his chest as she opened her mouth to his tongue. For a brief moment she considered abandoning her wrapping for another day. This was infinitely more fun than wrapping. But Christmas was three days away, and she was seeing her father tomorrow for a Christmas lunch. So she pushed him back with both hands, a grin on her face. "Go get us some Chinese, I'll be done by the time you get back."

Sam grinned. "I'll be back in half an hour," he promised stealing one last kiss before disappearing down the hall.

Andy turned back to her wrapping, shaking her head at the mess Sam had made of the one package he'd attempted to wrap. She tore the paper off the Monopoly box and tossed it in the pile of recycling she had on one side of the table. She  cut off another piece of bright green and red striped paper from the roll and set the box in the middle. She reached for the tape only to find the roll was empty. She sighed. "So much for being done in half an hour," she muttered tossing the empty roll in the garbage..

She looked around the kitchen, shrugged to herself and began opening drawers. There had to be tape somewhere. The first two drawers she tried were filled with cutlery and utensils. The third stuck a little as she tried to open it. Brow furrowed, she gave a strong fast tug and then drawer popped free.

The first thing she noticed was the thick blue file folder sitting on top of the drawer's contents. It was from fifteen division, she was sure of it. Feeling a little like an intruder, she picked it up. There was a roll of tape beneath it in the drawer, and almost without thinking she picked that up as well and carried both to the table.

Her mind entirely focused on the blue file, Andy finished wrapping her gifts with mechanical motions. When she finished she returned the tape to the drawer and picked up the file. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and began to read.

She wasn't aware of time passing, until she heard Sam's key's in the lock. She closed the file and stood, holding it between trembling hands.

"All done?" Sam asked, walking into the kitchen with two bags in his hands. He set them on the counter before turning to face her.

"Sam, what the hell is this?" Andy held up the folder.

Sam sighed, "You know what it is."

"Tell me anyway." Andy said, holding his gaze, "because it looks like  a case file from a case we were pulled off three weeks ago."

Sam nodded.

"Why is it here?"

He shrugged, momentarily at a loss for words. All of the reasons he'd felt like he _had_  to have a copy of the Dubray file felt suddenly inadequate. "I made a copy a month ago."

"The day Luke called you with the DNA results." Andy said, dropping the folder on the table and flipping it open. "It's right here." She shuffled through the papers for a moment before pulling out the test results. "You knew." She looked up at him.

"Knew what?"

"That we were going to be taken off the case as soon as Frank found out."

"Yes." Sam didn't try to deny it. There was no point. Andy wasn't an idiot. She'd obviously looked through the file, which meant she probably knew he had spent hours going through it page by page and compiling lists of notes, all of which were completely useless.

  1. "You knew, and you didn't tell me." Andy sounded bewildered.   



"There was nothing you could do."

"Right." Andy laughed humorlessly, "I'm just your partner. I was just at the scene, and worked the case with you for a week...." She folded her arms protectively over her chest. "It's just sex and chicken, is that it?" 

 "No, of course not!" Sam took a step forward. "I just..." he searched his brain for a suitable explanation, "I needed to look at it."

"Right," Andy's tone said it was anything but okay. "So when you said 'we can't solve them all' you meant me. _I_ can't solve them all."

Sam winced. Thrown back at him his words sounded every bit as condescending as Andy was interpreting them. He should have told her then... but he'd wanted to protect her. He always wanted to protect her. He loved how she cared about the people they helped. The fact that she could throw so much of her heart and soul into the job was what had first attracted him to her, but a side effect of that passion was a tendency to cling to unsolvable messes. A habit that was a good way to wind up behind a desk, or worse, in the morgue. "No one can solve every case."

"But you think you can solve this one?" Andy's tone was still defensive, but her arms had dropped to her sides.

Sam let out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "I need to solve this case."

She nodded slowly. "Because of Sarah?"

Reflexively, Sam opened his mouth to say 'no,' but it wouldn't come. He hadn't told anyone about Sarah before Andy. He'd never felt the need. It wasn't something you talked about. His parents had never mentioned it as anything but "the accident"- a misnomer that he knew was born out of the kind of pain only a parent can feel. Even with Sarah and Ed, that night was never really discussed. They all knew it had happened and wanted to move beyond it. As far as Sam was concerned the best way to do that was silence.

Andy closed the distance between them, tentatively placing one hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." She said softly, her dark eyes were filled with sorrow. "I should have--"

Sam took her face between his hands and swallowed the rest of her sentence in kiss. A tiny voice in the back of his head told him it wasn't resolved, they would have to talk eventually. But he shut it out, focusing on the taste of her on his lips, and the feel of her fingers curling in his hair. His heart thudded almost painfully against his chest. He needed her. More than he'd ever needed anyone.  In that moment there was no one, nothing else. Just Andy, her soft, perfect breasts under his palms, the soft gasp against his mouth when he pinched her nipples.

His hands drifted down her abdomen and settled on her hips, pulling her flush against him. Her hands left his hair, reaching between them to free both of their jeans. Sam's hands joined her and soon two pairs of jeans were in a heap around their ankles. He half lifted, half pushed her backwards, stepping out of his jeans as he propelled them across the room.

Half of his table was still covered in wrapping supplies. Sam released his hold on Andy long enough to sweep the supplies onto the floor. Andy kicked off her underwear and hoisted herself up on the table. Sam  removed his briefs and stepped between her open thighs, reclaiming her lips with his own. He could feel the heat of her teasing his hardening cock. He wrapped one hand in her hair, pulling her head to the side so he could kiss and nip at the soft skin of her throat.

Andy wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him flush against her. Her hands pushed his coat off his shoulders and slid under the hem of his shirt, pushing it up. He raised his arms and let her push it off. She discarded her own shirt and then they were together again. It took two tries, but her bra clasp gave way under his trembling fingers and then there was nothing between them.  

Sam pressed her back against the smooth wood of the table, his body pressed against her. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, teasing it into a stiff peak with his tongue as he slid into her wet, ready entrance.

Andy arched against him, letting out a moan as her muscles stretched to accommodate him. She was tight and wet and perfect. For a moment he was still, regaining control before he began to move. She clung to his back, fingers digging into his flesh and they rocked against one another.

Their dinner sat abandoned on the counter, cooling as the couple revelled in their passion. Their mingled cries of release drowning out the Christmas melodies still playing from the radio.

Sam kissed Andy gently as he pulled out of her. She let him held her from the table and lead her down the hall to his bedroom.

An hour later, sated and content, Sam lay on his back. Andy's head was pillowed against his shoulder. Her hair moved with each breath he took, ticking his chin. She snored, not loudly, but softly, in a way that was almost charming.

Sam pressed a kiss against her hair. "I love you, Andy McNally." He said softly, before joining her in slumber.

o o o

The next morning, Sam awoke to an empty bed. 


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Andy couldn't breathe. Which was ridiculous because she knew each rise and fall of her rib cage meant she was breathing, but it felt like the air was thick sludge that refused to be drawn in. Sam's hand resting lightly on her hip may as well have been wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding in her ears and it took all her self control to move slowly as she slid away from Sam and got to her feet. 

Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, she padded out to the kitchen where yesterday's clothes were still in a heap on the floor. She dressed and twisted her hair into a ponytail.

The gifts she'd wrapped the night before were still where she'd left them. The shiny, festive paper gleaming cheerily where slits of morning sun peeked through the blinds. Andy picked up the three boxes for her father from the pile and left the rest.

She should stay. She knew that. She should do the right thing. Wake Sam up and talk to him until she no longer felt like she'd gone to bed with her best friend and woken up next to a stranger. But she couldn't stay. She wasn't even sure she wanted to. Anger, hurt and confusion warred within her.

_If only he'd told me weeks ago..._

_No,_ another voice chimed in _, if he'd told you weeks ago you'd be right in there with him._

_Would that have been so bad?_

_Yes! This isn't healthy. He needs to stop._

_But if we can find evidence that Dubray--_

_What evidence? You've read that case cover to cover a dozen times. Besides, who would you tell even if you did?_

_Luke._

_So he could have you both benched or fired for breaking protocol?_

_He wouldn't._

_Maybe... Then again, he wasn't too happy when you told him you were seeing Sam._

_That was different._

_Like you looking at the file Sam hid is different from Luke reading your mail?_

_That's not the same at all!_

_You invaded his privacy and then yelled at him for it. Sound familiar?_

_I was looking for tape..._

_You didn't have to open the file._

_But..._

Andy groaned in frustration. _I'm going insane._ She didn't know what to do, what to think.. She needed out. Taking only the packages for Tommy and her purse, she let herself out of the apartment as quietly as possible. One thing was certain, she needed time and space to sort this out.

The voices of reason, anger, guilt and worry continued to battle in her mind as Andy walked through the Toronto streets towards her apartment. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it. Either it was Sam, who she wasn't ready to talk to, or her father, who she would see in a few hours and who was less likely to cancel if he only got voice mail. Either way, she didn't want to face it and so she kept walking.

By the time she reached her apartment worry had won out over anger and guilt. _What was Sam **thinking**?_ She set her coffee maker to brewing, shed her day-old clothing and stepped into the shower. She didn't have a clue what the punishment was for printing off a case file you weren't even on anymore, but she didn't think Frank would look on it kindly. She mulled over her options as she mindlessly shampooed her long hair.  She could tell Luke... though she was no longer convinced Luke wouldn't use the opportunity to exact a little revenge.  She could tell Frank, but as Staff Sergeant he would be obligated to follow protocol, no matter what that meant for Sam. Clearly, if she didn't want to risk Sam's career she needed to keep her mouth shut. Yet telling no one felt wrong.

There was something more going on than Sam hoarding an unauthorized copy of a case file. It was the specific case file he'd taken that set Andy's heart to pounding unnaturally fast. A young woman, raped and murdered in a park he and his sister had played in as children. A sister who hadn't been able to make it to the beach, or let her children go to public school, because she'd been attacked by a group of boys, only one of whom had been convicted.

She didn't know much about psychology.  She'd always sort of thought it was for the weak and directionless. Certainly not for cops. But in that moment she wished she'd at least listened to the shrink they'd made her see after she'd shot and killed a child molester. She had vague memories of a woman in beige with short grey hair telling her she might one day find herself on a similar case and trying to teach Andy how to cope when that situation arose. But all Andy had retained from the session was an acute sense of pointlessness. Now she wished she could go back to that day and ask the woman exactly what to do to release the ghost of that day.

Sam was reliving his sister's case, she was sure of it. What she wasn't sure of, was how to help him.

Andy did her best to push aside thoughts of Sam as she towelled off and dressed for lunch with her father. There would be plenty of time to think after she celebrated Christmas with the only family she had left. A quick glance at the clock told her she had half an hour. She eyed her bed longingly, but instead poured herself a cup of coffee and turned on the TV.  

o o o

"How's that murder case coming along?" Tommy asked, leaning back in his chair, cradling a coffee mug in one hand, an empty plate in front of him.

Andy realized with a pang of guilt how long it had been since they talked for more than a few minutes. "Not enough evidence." She said briefly, her mind's eye conjured up the pages of notes in the folder Sam had stolen and she felt a flash of anger. But for the first time that day her anger wasn't directed at Sam. She took the final bite of her salad, chewing it thoughtfully, eyes glued to the empty plate in front of her so her father couldn't see the emotion in her eyes.

"I'm surprised Swarek let it go."

Andy's head jerked up, thankful she'd swallowed a moment before her father opened his mouth. "What do you mean?"

Tommy shrugged, "he's got a mania for rape cases... Never knew why, but he got thrown off one years back for something or other, and almost got himself suspended trying to stay involved."

"What happened?" The story was sounding eerily familiar.

"I think they got the guy." Tommy said, sounding unconcerned.

"Oh." Andy felt inexplicably disappointed.

Their conversation turned to more mundane subjects as they finished their lunch. Andy paid defeating her father's protests with a "I'm leaving you on Christmas, this is the least I can do." Tommy hummed along to the radio the entire drive home and Andy couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him looking this happy.

"Merry Christmas Dad." Andy kissed her father's cheek before climbing out of the car.

"Merry Christmas," he returned.

She waved as he drove off and then turned to enter her apartment. "Sam?"

He rose from where he'd been sitting on the front steps. "You weren't answering your phone."

Andy nodded. "I needed some time."

"Andy, I'm sorry..."

Andy held up a hand to stop him. She was happy, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin that by rehashing their fight from the night before. "Can we not do this today?"

For a moment he looked like he wanted to argue. Instead he nodded, "Okay."

"Thank you." She smiled at him and Sam felt a wave of relief wash over him. She was upset, she had a right to be, but that smile told him he hadn't driven her away completely.

"Want to come up?" Andy offered pulling her key out and unlocking the front door.

"I should go home, I have things to do before tomorrow." Sam said. He brushed her cheek lightly, "pick you up at noon?"

"Okay." Andy opened her front door and stepped inside. "See you tomorrow." She added, almost an afterthought.

He waited on the porch long after she'd gone inside, cursing himself for being a fool. He'd known copying the file was a bad idea, but even though he'd known it would probably end badly, he hadn't been able to help it. Dubray couldn't get away with it. Not like.....

 _No._ He shut off that line of thought. He'd been chasing those ghosts for over twenty years. It was time to focus on someone he could help, like the Frances. Maybe if he could help them, he could help Sarah not to be afraid any more.

He looked up at Andy's windows. He wanted to talk with her, explain that he needed to do this for his sister. But she said she needed space, so instead he turned and walked down the street, away from her. Each step tightening the noose around his heart.

Sam had walked over. After the sixth time he reached voicemail, he'd needed to clear his head. He hadn't meant to end up sitting on her front porch for an hour waiting for her to come home. His feet had carried him here without his conscious permission. Sam didn't even remember covering the familiar kilometers between his home and hers. They lived only three kilometers apart, he'd walked the route several times in the weeks they'd been dating. Still, it was a miracle he'd managed to get there without being run over. He wasn't sure he'd even stopped for traffic lights. He'd been too busy cursing his idiocy.

He should have known sex with Andy didn't mean everything was fine. The first time they'd nearly hooked up, she'd come running to him because nothing was fine and she wanted to forget it for a night. He knew that. And yet he'd managed to fool himself into thinking somehow their relationship, his feelings, made things different, like one of those cheesy Hollywood movies Sarah had always chosen for movie night in college. He sighed, it was ridiculous. He didn't want Andy to change, not really.

All he wanted was to go back to the day before and move the file somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn't ever have reason to stumble upon it.

 o o o

When Sam pulled up in front of Andy's at ten to noon the next day, she was waiting for him on the porch. She was wearing a bomber jacket over a knee length sweater dress he'd never seen before with leggings and a pair of heeled boots. She looked beautiful. Best of all, her lips were curled into a familiar smile that was matched by a sparkle in her eyes.

He opened the passenger door of his truck for her and tossed her bag into the back with the rest of her gifts and his own.

"Good morning." Andy said, leaning in for a kiss.

Sam cupped her cheek with one hand, lingering over the kiss, savouring the moment.

Andy broke the kiss, grinned at him and climbed into the truck.

Sam slid behind the wheel, but didn't start the engine. Instead he turned so he was mostly facing her. "We should talk."

Andy raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About the Frances case. I should have told you."

"It's fine, I was just surprised." It was almost the truth. She'd been surprised, shocked really and angry, when she'd found the file, but the day apart had cooled her ire and given her much needed perspective. Sam's sister had been attacked, possibly in the same park as Natalie Frances, and Andy knew at least some of those men had gotten away with it just as Dubray was going to. Hurt as she was he'd kept it secret and concerned as she was for his well-being, Andy understood why he'd done it. 

Sam searched her face and was surprised, pleasantly, to find she was honestly fine.  

She smiled, "we're okay."

"Andy..."

She shook her head. "Just tell me next time there's a drawer I should avoid," she said, in a teasing tone.

Sam studied her for several silent seconds. Something wasn't quite right, but she clearly wasn't ready to talk about it. Promising himself they would deal with it eventually, Sam turned the key in the ignition. 


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

"Sammy!" Sarah met her brother at the door throwing her arms around him in a bear hug. She would never have admitted it, but she'd spent most of the afternoon staring out the front window hoping for a glimpse of his silver truck. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that there was something wrong with her brother, despite her deal with Ed. "I see you brought your lovely young lady." She said, voice triumphant.

She held Sam at arms' length studying his familiar face. There was a new wrinkle forming on his brow, and darker than normal circles under his eyes, but his smile seemed genuine. She pulled him into another hug before finally releasing him to greet her other guest in a similar manner.

Andy was surprised, but not unpleasantly, when Sarah pulled her into a hug as well. She liked Sarah and felt very lucky to be included in the Swarek family Christmas. She just hoped Sarah still felt like hugging her after today. She was determined to talk to Sarah before her courage failed and she let the opportunity pass her by. She'd made the decision yesterday and was determined to see it through. If anyone would know what to do, it would be Sarah.

Sarah looped her arm through Andy's. "How are you with a potato peeler?" She asked.

"Not terrible," Andy replied.

"Excellent." Sarah turned to her brother, "You don't mind if I steal her, do you? Ed and the kids are up at the school flying kites, I promised Samantha you'd go play with them as soon as you got here."

Sam shook his head, chuckling as he walked back out to the truck to unload their stuff.  Sarah hadn't been as surprised as he would have liked, but he couldn't complain about how she'd taken to Andy. Besides, that was what he got for trusting Ed's ability to be stealthy. His brother in law was good at many things, keeping secrets from his wife was not one of them.

When the front door closed behind them Sarah stopped in her tracks. "I'm worried about Sam." She said, unable to hold it for another moment. "He'd not himself. Is it.. did something happen?"

Andy's brows rose in surprise. She'd been worrying the entire drive to St. Catharines about how she could broach her concerns without alarming Sam's sister, and here was Sarah, wide eyed and pale. Andy checked to make sure Sam was still standing by the truck before replying. "It's.. well..." now that she had her opportunity Andy found herself at a loss for words. She was pretty certain telling Sarah the details of the Frances case was a terrible idea, but she wasn't sure how to explain her own worries about Sam without going into detail. "He's worried about a case." She finally said, willing Sarah to understand that this was more than the usual job stress.

"A rape?" Sarah's voice was so soft Andy almost couldn't hear her.

"Yes."

Sarah nodded, her face growing paler. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as if gathering courage. "Was it... it wasn't..." She took a shuddering breath and then said quickly, like ripping of a band aid, "The girl who was raped and killed in Moss Park?"  

Andy nodded.

For a moment she thought Sarah might pass out. The older woman's face was white, her pink lips compressed in a tight line, her nostrils flared as she struggled to control her breathing.

Andy stole another glance out front. Sam was walking back to the house, his arms full of Christmas presents, their bags slung over one shoulder. "Sarah, you need to come to the kitchen." Andy said taking her by the arm.

Sarah allowed herself to be led into the kitchen where she sank onto a stool. There was a little colour in her cheeks and Andy breathed a sigh of relief. "Tea?" She offered, realizing after she said it that this was Sarah's kitchen, but not really caring about manners.

"That would be nice," Sarah said in a dreamy, half-present voice. "There's a pot in the far cupboard," she gestured with one hand.

Andy set about filling the stainless steel kettle and gathering the tea things from the cupboard Sarah had indicated. Keeping her hands busy allowed her brain to roam at random. When the kettle whistled shrilly Andy decided the best thing to do was just tell Sarah what happened, with minimal details of course, and take it from there. She didn't think half truths would satisfy Sam's sister and the last thing Andy wanted to do was increase the woman's worry.  She poured them each a cup of hot water and added chamomile tea to Sarah's and peppermint to her own before carrying them to where Sarah still sat.

Talking slowly, taking plenty of time to choose her words, Andy told Sarah about the case. She started with how they had found only one suspect and he'd been eliminated by DNA evidence leading to their being kicked off the case, and ended with the file she'd found in Sam's kitchen drawer.

Sarah listened silently for the most part, only interrupting once to ask, "Did you say Moss park?" When Andy was done silence reigned in the kitchen.

Andy took a sip of her now lukewarm tea as she waited for Sarah to speak.

"Thank you for telling me." Sarah said at last. "Sam and Ed..." she paused, searching for the right words, "they try to protect me. Sometimes it's frustrating."

"They love you." Andy said frankly.

"True. I'm a lucky woman." Sarah smiled faintly.

"What can I do? For Sam I mean."

Sarah considered this. She knew her brother better than anyone, he would not take kindly to whoever tried to wrest this latest obsession from his fingers. Sam was a smart guy, but he was stubborn and occasionally pig-headed. If Andy tried to coax or cajole him away from a case he was convinced he needed to solve it would not end well. The beginnings of a plan began to form in her mind. Smile growing she nodded decisively, _Yes, that ought to do it_.

o o o

"You told her, didn't you?" Sam was still a few meters away from his brother in law and almost laughed as Ed jerked in surprise.

"Sam! You should know better than to sneak up on an old man like that."

Sam rolled his eyes. Ed was barely six years his senior, definitely no "old man." He shook Ed's hand and joined him on the park bench. He could see his niece and nephew halfway across the soccer field, heads bent together as they attempted to untangle a bright red kite from its string. "Well?"

Ed grinned, "I didn't tell her... exactly."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I might have asked where the guest towels were hiding." Ed admitted sheepishly.

"Subtle."  Sam shook his head, chuckling.

"Uncle Sam!" Mitch's excited voice was joined by his sister's squeal of delight and adult conversation was quickly overtaken by childish chatter. For the rest of the hour there was little besides laughter and kite flying.

Chilled and hungry, the foursome returned to the house. Samantha was the first through the door. Sam could hear her "Mommy, I flew a kite _all by myself!"_  before he'd even gotten his shoes off. He hung up his coat and then made his way to the kitchen.

Andy was sitting at the bar, a mug cradled between both hands, smiling at Samantha's enthusiastic retelling of their kiting adventure. He helped himself to a mug and some coffee from the perpetually half-full pot on Sarah's counter. Andy smiled in greeting and he kissed her quickly on the lips before taking the stool next to her.

"Ew!" Samantha said loudly. "Mommy! Uncle Sam just kissed that lady!"

Sarah looked like she wanted to laugh, but managed to keep her voice from shaking as she addressed her daughter. "That is Andy, she and your Uncle Sam are dating. Can you introduce yourself?"

Samantha nodded solemnly and turned  to face Andy. "Hi."

"Hi Samantha," Andy said feeling suddenly awkward. The only kid she'd ever really interacted with was Leo, and meeting him had been something very different from meeting her boyfriend's niece and nephew.

Fortunately, Samantha's interest in her uncle's girlfriend was extremely short lived. No sooner had Andy thought of a suitable question to ask a seven year old, than Samantha was running out of the room, her red winter jacket, still on by one sleeve, trailing behind her like a cape.

"Sorry," Sarah said, "I think she's a little jealous. You know how kids are."

Andy nodded, not that she had any clue what was normal behaviour for a seven year old, but she thought it was more polite to just go along.

 "Glad to see Sarah's gave you a break." Sam said, bumping his shoulder against Andy's playfully. "I half thought she'd have chained you to the stove."

Sarah gave him a look of half amusement half exasperation.

Andy was impressed at the woman' ability to go from worries to conniving to completely normal in under an hour. It was a skill Andy herself did not possess. She was half afraid to look at Sam lest he see echoes of Sarah's decision in her eyes. She drained the last of the coffee in her mug and, setting it down on the bar, stood up. "Break time's over, " She kept her voice light.

Sam stayed in the kitchen, watching with warm eyes as Andy and Sarah worked in wordless harmony  to finish up the dinner, as if they'd been cooking together every night for weeks. Considering how rarely Andy cooked, he was a little surprised she'd taken to it so quickly. But it was a good surprise. He wanted his sister to love Andy, and it looked like he was going to get his wish.

"It wouldn't kill you to make yourself useful, you know." Sarah said, setting a stack of plates before him.

Grumbling, as was his brotherly duty, Sam set to work setting the table for six. Samantha dogged his every step. He let her 'help' with the non breakable items, following half a step behind to correct their placement as needed. By the time they finished Andy and Sarah were coming out of the kitchen with steaming bowls of mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts, yams, stuffing and turkey.

Sarah seated Sam at the foot of the table opposite Ed, who took the head, with Samantha on one side and Andy on the other. Mitch took Andy's other side and Sarah, the last to sit took the empty place between Samantha and her husband.

After dinner, deliciously full and just a little tipsy from drinking her share of three bottles of wine over the meal Andy settled next to Sam on the couch. She rested her head against his shoulder and smiled contentedly as they watched the kids open the one gift Sarah allowed them for Christmas Eve. She even laughed along with Sam when Samantha attempted to convince her mother that they should be allowed to open all the gifts under the tree that night since Santa would come and leave more for them by morning.

She was exhausted, but in the best way. For the first time in days she didn't feel anxious. Sam seemed happier than he'd been in weeks, and for a moment she could almost pretend he wasn't torturing himself with an unsolvable case. Her eyelids grew heavy and the next thing Andy knew Sam was laying her gently in the guest bed.

"You fell asleep," He said softly when her brow furrowed in confusion. He removed his shirt and jeans and climbed into bed next to her.

 Andy smiled, snuggled close and slipped back into the waiting arms of sleep.

o o o

Andy fingered the pendant hanging around her neck. The amber drop was warm from sitting against her skin. The rest of the visit to Sarah's home had gone smoothly, the kids had even been excited about their board games, but she was glad to be back at Sam's. And even happier that he seemed to have forgotten, at least for the time being, the talk he'd wanted to have the day before. If she played her cards right she was hoping to keep him too distracted to bring it up until after Sarah tried her plan.

"You really like it?" There was an unfamiliar vulnerability in Sam's eyes as he watched her toy with the pendant he'd bought. It wasn't an expensive piece of jewellery, but he'd seen it in a shop window weeks before Christmas and immediately pictured it sitting against her skin.

Andy smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "It's beautiful." She said softly before pressing her lips to his again. Sam kissed her back slow, leisurely kisses. She lay back against the couch and he followed her. "I can't stay," she said as his fingers traced curlicues  along her stomach.

"An hour?" He kissed her neck and cupped her breast with one hand.

Her fingers reached for the hem of his shirt without conscious thought. "An hour," she agreed before his lips once again claimed hers. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"Sarah?" Sam stared at his sister, mouth partly open in shock. It was New Years Eve, perhaps the last day of the year he would ever expect Sarah to travel to Toronto, especially when they'd just seen each other a week earlier. Unbidden images of his niece and nephew injured and in hospital flashed through his mind. "Is everything okay?"

"Ed and the kids are fine." Sarah gave him a reassuring smile. "Can we talk?"

Sam stepped back so she could enter. "Come in."

She shook her head, "not inside. There's something I want to show you."

"Sam?" Andy's voice came from the bedroom where he'd left her to answer the door.

"Just give me one minute," Sam said to his sister, disappearing down the hall.

She leaned against the door frame, listening shamelessly as Sam told Andy who was at the door and that he was going out for a bit. Sarah was rather impressed at Andy's ability to feign innocence. Impressed, and grateful. If Sam guessed what they were up to he would dig in his heels and the hours Sarah had spent with her therapist over the last week working her way up to today would be wasted.  

"Alright," Sam grabbed a coat and his keys, "where do you want to go."

"I'll drive." Sarah said, steering him towards her car.  

Sam raised his eyebrows but complied, sliding into the passenger seat and fastening his seatbelt.

They drove in silence, Sarah focusing on breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth and not getting lost. She'd never actually driven in Toronto before she realized. She hadn't gotten her driver's licence until after Mitch was born. Until she'd had a baby depending on her she hadn't felt it necessary. The few times she'd ventured into the city to visit her brother, she'd always let Ed drive.

She could feel Sam's eyes on her and knew he was probably worried. Not that she could blame him, she'd never shown up unannounced before, let alone by herself, unannounced on New Year's Eve.  She'd wanted to come sooner, but she knew this was his first day off since Christmas, and besides, she'd needed the time to prepare herself for what had to happen.

It wasn't until she turned off Jarvis onto Shuter that Sam realized where they were going. "Sarah..." His voice was strained, "What are you doing?"

Her hands tightened involuntarily around the steering wheel. She guided the car into a curb spot between a silver Audi and a blue mini-van and killed the engine before turning to face him. "Do you trust me?"

Sam looked skeptical, but he nodded once.

Sarah could tell from the furrow between his eyebrows and the set of his mouth that he was deeply unhappy about being here, but trying to hide it. She forced her lips to smile, hoping he didn't see the quiver. She hadn't set foot in Moss Park for nearly thirty years. It was long past time. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the keys out of the ignition and opened the door.

She stood quickly, so she wouldn't have time to second guess herself, and shut the car door. She could see the tennis courts through a stand of leafless maples just meters away. The December air bit at her nostrils as she drew in another steadying breath.  It looked different. The maples were taller and broader than she remembered, and the aluminum bleachers she could see by the baseball diamond were nothing like the wooden ones she remembered from that fateful night. _I can do this_ , she told herself and for the first time in a week she believed it was true.

Sam watched as the anxiety melted away from his sister's face, replaced by a calm acceptance. His own emotions seemed to be stuck full throttle on anger. He curled both hands into fists. He didn't know why she had brought them here, he just wanted them to leave. _Sarah doesn't need to be here_ he thought, though a niggling voice whispered that it was he who didn't want to be there.

"Walk with me?" Sarah asked, rounding the car.

Sam nodded stiffly. She'd asked him to trust her, so that was what he was going to do. Even if it killed him.

Sarah tucked her arm in his and led him to the park's paved paths. "I remember when these were gravel," she said in a forced light tone. "When did we get so old Sammy?"

"You're not old." Sam said automatically. He was only half listening to her conversation. The rest of his attention was glued to the park around them. Two women and a chocolate lab walked towards them on the path, a man and his daughter were playing catch meters from the patch of grass where they'd found Natalie Frances' body, he could hear shrieks of laughter from the playground. All around him, people were enjoying the day. He wanted to scream.

Sarah didn't speak again until they were at the baseball diamond.  "I cut through here that night."

Sam closed his eyes reflexively as if that could block out the story he knew she needed to tell him.

"I was in a hurry, and Jesse Ramirez was going to be there." She gestured to the empty bleachers. "There were three boys sitting on the bleachers. I remember one of them whistled at me and I felt so _cool_."

"Sarah," Sam's voice was pained, "You don't need to..."

Sarah stopped and faced him head on. "Yes. I do."

For a moment the siblings stared at each other. Sam nodded so slightly she almost thought she imagined it. "Okay." He said.

They continued their walk, Sarah continuing in a clear, steady voice that belied the quivering fear in her belly. This was harder than she'd thought it would be. When she finished telling her story she stopped walking again and looked around the familiar park, giving Sam a moment to calm down. She could feel tension radiating from his every pore.

He turned away from her, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. "I should have been here."

Sarah shook her head, so like her brother to assume responsibility for a thirty year old hurt he could never have prevented. "You were nine, Sammy."

He grumbled something she didn't quite catch, but didn't relax.

"Talk to me." She said softly. "I promise, it helps."

"Right," Sam snapped, "talking makes everything better."

"It's been 29 years Sammy, you need to let it go." Sarah placed a gentle hand on his arm.

Sam sighed. He knew she was right, but the helpless, hurt anger surging through his veins wasn't going away just because she told it to. She'd just told him enough details of that night that he now knew exactly what had happened to her. It made his sick with impotent rage. He wanted to break things. He wanted to find those men and show them even a tenth of the hurt they'd caused his precious sister. He wanted to go to Dubray's house and rip the psychopath's testicles off. At the very least he wanted to shake off Sarah's hand and walk away until the anger subsided, but he didn't. Sarah needed this, and he was going to give it to her.

"You need to let someone in." Sarah continued, "It doesn't have to be me. But you need to talk to someone."

Sam shook his head. He could feel tears prickling at the back of his eyes which only made him more angry.

Squeezing his arm before letting it go, Sarah continued. "Andy's pretty special, but if she's not the one, that's okay. She's young, she'll recover."

That brought Sam's eyes to his sister's face. How dare Sarah try to threaten him with Andy? They'd only been together for two months. He hadn't even had time to screw it up.

Sarah's lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. "I'm not saying she's going to leave you, so you can stop looking at me like that. I just want you to be happy, that's all I ever wanted." Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "I will never forgive myself if I destroyed that for you."

The guilt and sorrow in her expression melted much of Sam's anger. He pulled her into a hug. "You didn't destroy anything," he said fiercely, his mind's eye picturing Dubray's smug face. He knew, deep in his gut, that Dubray was the man. He didn't have evidence, but he _knew_ he was right. It was only a matter of time.

Sarah pulled back and took his face between her hands. His face was hard, closed off, determined. "Promise me."

A brief flicker of confusion crossed his face, to be replaced by an eerie resolve. "He'll screw up, eventually. And then I will make him pay."

Sarah dropped her hands as if they'd been burned. She felt tears prickle at the back of her eyes. How had she never noticed before? How had she never seen how her fears had affected him? All this anger hadn't surfaced overnight, but somehow, she'd never seen it before. She'd seen what she wanted to see, the happy smile, the rock solid little brother who could face down every demon with a sardonic smile and come out on top. "No, Sammy," Sarah shook her head. A single tear escaped, trickling down her cheek, "you need to promise me you'll let this go."

He looked at her as if she'd asked him to jump off a building, or shoot her in the head, betrayed and hurt and so confused. "I-uh.." He turned away from her, running a hand through his short black hair.  

"Please, Sammy." Sarah swiped another tear from her cheek.

A new image flickered in his mind's eye. His thirteen year old sister, sitting in the living room of their Toronto home, her knees tucked up to her chest, arms wrapped around them, eyes staring vacantly at the TV even though it was two in the morning and all the stations were playing static. He saw himself, nine year of age climbing up beside her, whispering so mom and dad wouldn't wake up, telling her the newest joke from his joke book. He saw the street lights reflected in the tears on her cheeks. The first tears she'd cried in two months. His heart contracted painfully.

There was something familiar in her expression. He'd seen it in his own. Every day since they found Natalie Frances' body. Rage. Barely contained, poisonous, helpless rage. He took a deep shuddering breath. Sarah was right. If he didn't control it, that rage would destroy him. How could he hope to build a future with Andy when he couldn't look himself in the mirror. He wanted a future with her, he could admit it to himself today. She was smart, beautiful, funny, kind and brave. She wouldn't shirk from the darkness in him, but it would destroy her too. He wondered if that was what had destroyed her mother. Tommy's rage.

"How did you do it?" He asked in a strangled voice.

Sarah smiled through her tears. "I had the world's most amazing brother, and an incredible husband, and I took it one day at a time."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That easy?"

"It's not easy." Sarah said, "but you know what? I don't think anything worthwhile ever is."

Sam chuckled dryly.

"Alright, that was cheesy," Sarah admitted, "but I made you laugh."

Sam nodded. He scanned the park, taking in the familiar details. Even though the sun had set hours ago, the lights from the baseball diamond gave plenty of light to the field, and turned familiar trees into ghoulish shadows.

"You're going to do this your own way," Sarah said, looping her arm through his, "But I think I know a good place to start."

o o o ****

"Andy?" Sam called the moment he entered the house. He didn't know if she would be there. He'd been gone for hours instead of the few minutes he'd told her. It was late, nine at least. He tried not to get his hopes up.

"Sam." Andy stood in the entryway. She smiled tentatively at him. "Sarah...?"

"She's good." Sam said, closing the distance between them in four long strides.

"Good," Andy studied his face, "and you?"

Sam tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "I'm going to be."

 She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it. "I love you, you know." There was a tiny knot of cold fear in her stomach as she said those words. They didn't come easily.

Sam cupped her face between his palms and kissed her softly on the lips. "I love you, Andy." He whispered, pulling her gently into his arms.

They stood like that for several minutes, her head pillowed against his shoulder, his nose pressed into her hair. Sam pulled back first. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you weeks ago."

Andy's eyes darted to his face. For a moment her heart seemed like it would pound out of her chest.

"It's about the night Sarah was attacked." He said, seeing the panic in her eyes.

Relief coursed through her veins and she managed a wobbly smile. "Okay," she said softly, taking his hand in hers, she led him to the living room.

Sam sat first and Andy curled up beside him, leaning into his chest. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, absently curling a strand of hair around his finger.

"It was my friend Joe's ninth birthday..." Sam told his story in a voice that sometimes wavered but never quit. When he was done, Andy held him until his breathing evened out in sleep. She pulled a blanket over them both and lay her head against his chest. She could hear the steady thuh-thump of his heart. She let it lull her to sleep and for the first time she could remember, felt no desire to run.

**Fin.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. This story took on a life of its own. I was aiming for a four or five chapter sweet story about a meddlesome sister and instead Sam, Andy and Sarah took me on a journey that was both fun and terrifying. I hope you enjoyed it. There is a one-shot that tells the story of when Sarah was attacked, it's called Innocence.


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